


Still Worth It

by Katef



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-16
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-25 14:50:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2625743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katef/pseuds/Katef
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'A Worthwhile Partnership'.  As Jim and Blair continue to develop their new relationship both at home and at work, it would seem that the past isn't yet ready to let go of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Worth It

**Author's Note:**

> Again written for the Sentinel Big Bang 2014, the full colour version containing the lovely artwork by stargatesg1971 can be found by following the link at http://sentinelbigbang.com/2014bigbang/Proj-01/index.html

** Still Worth It ** **_by Katef_ **

**Part 1: Introduction:**

**Major Crimes Unit Bullpen:**

Seated at his desk, Sentinel Detective Jim Ellison scowled as he studied the thick file open in front of him. It was an on-going case which, in a perfect world, would have been closed many months ago, and all those involved arrested and sent down for their crimes. However, corruption in all the right places as far as many of the perps were concerned meant that the progress was slow, although not completely halted.

However, Jim’s expression lightened considerably as he cocked his head in a ‘listening’ pose, having heard his guide enter the building, and the sentinel eagerly anticipated reconnecting with the most important person in his life.  Leaning back in his seat, aware of the cheerful grins directed at him from his friends and colleagues, he allowed himself a few minutes’ contemplation while he awaited Blair’s arrival in the bullpen.

In a few days’ time, it would be the one year’s anniversary of the death of Dr Eli Stoddard, Jim’s friend and mentor when he was an unbonded but fully on-line sentinel. He had also been the unofficial and clandestine guardian of Blair Sandburg, a young man destined to become Jim’s guide and life partner. Certainly, Jim knew that both he and Blair would grieve for the premature loss of a great friend and renowned anthropologist, but the day also marked the moment when Jim willingly took over as Blair’s legal protector, and for that he couldn’t feel sorry. He had been instinctively drawn to the young man at first sight, and had imprinted him almost immediately to form a strong, working bond. And within a few months, once Blair had turned eighteen, they had completed the full sexual bond, and were now one of the strongest sentinel and guide pairings in Cascade’s recorded history - indeed, in the whole of the Pacific North West.

One the other hand, things hadn’t been all plain sailing for the pair by any means, mostly due to the secluded and restricted life his guide and lover had been forced to lead for the majority of his youth.  Blair had been forced to repress his strong empathic gifts in order to stay out of the clutches of slavers and criminals who trafficked in slaves, sex workers and, most lucratively, black market guides. Constant fear of discovery and a secretive existence in Eli’s large house, now bequeathed to Blair, meant that the youngster had been painfully shy and nervous when Jim had first met him. Chronically insecure and inexperienced in normal everyday social interactions, Blair had found it hard to face the outside world, only managing relatively successfully through the constant support of his sentinel and the new friends he had made in the PD and at Rainier University, where he was about to commence his second year of Sentinel Studies and Guide Training. Thanks to them, his own innate optimism and gentleness and his exceptional intelligence, he was improving by leaps and bounds, such that for much of the time he appeared as Jim considered to be his true nature; bouncy, inquisitive and helpful; his empathy ensuring that he was always willing to assist anyone who needed his support. And that was especially true where his sentinel was concerned, for which Jim was inordinately grateful.

Despite his remarkable progress, however, Blair still had a tendency to retreat into tongue-tied reticence and self-conscious diffidence under difficult circumstances, a habit that Jim understood but which could also cause him no little irritation. After all, he was only human, and not Superman, as Blair was wont to point out, and he was honest enough to admit that on occasion his patience wore thin, and his sharp words had the power to hurt Blair deeply; a power of which he was uncomfortably ashamed. Nevertheless, he always tried his best to make up for any discord his impatience triggered between them, and the fact that their empathic link was so strong meant that Blair could easily discern that his sentinel’s remorse and apologies were genuine, and in his turn, Jim was assured of his guide’s devotion and understanding, gratefully accepting his lover’s unconditional forgiveness.

Just then, the doors to the bullpen burst open, and Blair entered, chatting happily with Joel Taggart, a particular friend and ally to them both. As they headed immediately for Jim’s desk, Blair continued his excited explanation, hands gesturing wildly in counterpoint to his excited words.

“See, Dean Wilson knows that I can’t study regular anthropology, as I can’t go away on extended expeditions without Jim, but he says it doesn’t stop me from studying Forensic Anth, ‘cos I can get practical training right here in Cascade as Jim’s guide and partner, and by working with the ME sometimes, if Dan Wolf’ll let me. As long as I don’t get too sick, of course!” and a comical grimace briefly distorted his attractive features. “Anyway, it’ll be a lot more use to me when I’m qualified and old enough to join the PD as a consultant. And then there’s the Guide training--”

“Whoa, partner! Breathe, Blair!” Jim interjected, reeling his young guide in for a hug. His fond expression took the sting out of his words, and Blair beamed up at him, knowing that Jim wasn’t mocking him. As Joel looked on, an amiable grin on his broad and pleasant face, Jim buried his nose in the springy curls behind Blair’s be-ringed ear, unconcernedly revelling in his guide’s presence and seeking out the enticing scent which automatically calmed and grounded senses on the verge of becoming uncomfortable. The blissed-out expression on Blair’s face showed that he too was benefitting from Jim’s boost to his empathic shields, and silence reigned for long moments as sentinel and guide reconnected. For the most part, the other occupants in the bullpen were as accepting as Joel, knowing that the display was merely part and parcel of normal sentinel and guide behaviour. And if they disapproved, then they had sense enough to keep their opinions to themselves within the considerable range of Jim’s hearing. On the other hand, the empath in Blair was well aware of the few hurtful thoughts and emotions directed at him in particular, but he was careful to block them from Jim, not wanting to provoke an unnecessary resurgence of Blessed Protector Syndrome in his partner and the likely dire consequences resulting from such a state.

Breaking apart, their individual needs satisfied for the moment once again, both turned back to face Joel.

“Hey, Joel. Now Blair’s brought you up to date with his goings-on, do you need me for anything? If not, we’ll take an early lunch break if that’s OK with you and Simon.”

“I think that should be OK, Jim. As far as I know there’s nothing--” and he was stopped short by a bellow issuing from Simon Banks’ office.

“Joel, Ellison, my office, now! And bring Blair too. He needs to hear this!” and Simon’s glowering face disappeared back inside the doorway as he waited for his subordinates to obey his orders.

Exchanging shrugs and quizzical looks, the three friends and colleagues made their way over to their captain’s inner sanctum, each uncomfortably aware that the news they were about to hear wasn’t anything good.

\----------------------------------------

**Part 2: A Recurring Nightmare:**

As the three men took the seats indicated in front of Simon’s desk, Blair surreptitiously dipped his empathic shields and quickly ‘read’ the big captain, instantly relieved to find that the man’s overt anger and tightly-controlled aggression wasn’t directed at any of them. Blair ruefully admitted to himself that despite Banks’ averred acceptance of him as Jim’s guide, he was well aware that the man had had serious reservations when they were first introduced. Apart from the fact that Jim had presented Blair as his new guide as a _fait accompli,_ which hadn’t gone down too well with his superior, Simon had considered him to be too young and totally unsuitable as a match for his best detective, and had been quick to say as much. The situation had improved greatly over the intervening months, but Blair was certain that the man’s approval was conditional on the young guide’s continuing to perform adequately, and he was uncomfortably aware that the captain wouldn’t tolerate mistakes willingly, whether unavoidable or not. However, it would seem that for today Blair had once again avoided becoming the focus of Simon’s ire, so he relaxed slightly, offering Jim a small reassuring smile in answer to the sentinel’s tacit glance of enquiry and concern.

Once sure of his listeners’ undivided attention, Simon leant forward, hands clasped and resting his forearms on his desk. Scowl deepening, he reached out, turning his computer screen around enough to face them before resuming his previous pose. It displayed the first page of the electronic copy of the thick file on Jim’s desk, and all three men were instantly alert since all of them had been involved in the case in one way or another.

Over the past few years, Cascade had earned the unenviable reputation of becoming a preferred outlet for smuggled slaves and guides; the victims of a powerful and wide-spread international human trafficking ring. However, despite knowing of its existence, local law enforcement agencies had been unable to progress with closing it down, thanks to the influence of several highly-placed local figures, some of whom had actually held office in said agencies. Although following a lucky break some months ago the pipeline had finally been shut down causing the foreign sources to turn their attention elsewhere, and some of the prominent players had been arrested, attempts to actually convict and close the case were moving at a snail’s pace with prosecutors being blocked at every turn by high-priced and highly successful Defence Attorneys.

Knowing that his audience were hanging on his every word, Simon began. Voice rough with barely-suppressed emotion, he said, “I’ve just been speaking to the FBI’s new Section Head for Cascade. SAC Bridges is way more forthcoming than that crooked bastard Greenwood – positively cooperative for a ‘fibbie’...” he added darkly, a grim half-smirk tightening his features for an instant.

“However, I have to tell you that it’s not good news. Apparently Brad Sullivan got himself iced this morning. The so-called ‘safe house’ where he was being held was blown up, apparently by a sophisticated remote-controlled device, killing him and both his ‘minders’ instantly.” He paused for a moment, studying the various shocked reactions in his listeners, well aware that each of them had a particular interest in the new development.

As the ex-Captain of the Bomb Squad, Joel Taggart was only too familiar with the grisly results of such horrendous incidents, added to which he had been involved in the case from the outset as a member of the inter-agency Task Force set up to tackle the trafficking problem. The distress on his normally genial face was plain to see, and Simon knew his old friend’s sympathy for the victims was genuine.

Jim was predictably incensed, jaw muscles twitching and bunched as he ground his teeth in frustration, his expression a combination of cold fury, disgust and concern for his guide, and Simon knew full well that the sentinel’s instinct to protect had kicked into high gear. Sure enough, a powerful arm was thrown around Blair’s shaking shoulders, and a threatening growl rumbled in the big cop’s throat as he tucked his guide against his side.

As for Blair, he sank back in his seat, white-faced with shock as he unconsciously pressed up against Jim, grateful for his sentinel’s automatic moves to protect and comfort him while he wrestled with his tumultuous emotions, trying to absorb the implications of the bald statement.

Brad Sullivan had been one of the two erstwhile employees of a powerful local businessman and would-be politician, Leon DuRoy. DuRoy had tasked them with Blair’s kidnapping, wanting to secure the empath for his sentinel son. However, when the plot was foiled, and the two men taken into custody, Sullivan had quickly agreed to turn state’s evidence in return for immunity and inclusion in the Witness Protection Programme. He had proved to be a key witness in the on-going investigations into several local mafia-backed activities, including the human trafficking pipeline, and the loss of his testimony would seriously set back the DA’s case against DuRoy in particular.

Eyes now softened with real sympathy, Simon addressed Blair directly, his tone far gentler as he sought the young guide’s attention. “I’m truly sorry to drop this on you, Blair.  I know it’s going to hit you particularly hard, and bring back bad memories.”

He was well aware that the gentle young man was always upset and hurt by any death, violent or otherwise, whether or not the victim might be lower than pond scum in Simon’s considered opinion. And the very thought of the young empath being seized and forced into an attempted bond with a criminal’s son just didn’t bear thinking of. Trying to offer some comfort of his own, Simon continued.

“It’s not all bad news on the trafficking pipeline front, although it could be better. Ex-Mayor Anderson and ex-Commissioner O’Malley,” - these names uttered with a sneer and in a tone dripping in disgust – “will still go down, no doubt of it. However clever they thought they were being in covering their tracks, the FBI’s forensic accountants and IT specialists have been able to dissect their financial records minutely, and have managed to trace illicit funds back to their sources. There’s no doubt of their complicity from that evidence at least, and they should be successfully prosecuted.

“As far as DuRoy’s concerned, though, we definitely have a problem without Sullivan’s evidence. His partner-in-crime, Joseph Murphy, is maintaining his silence, undoubtedly expecting a large financial incentive to protect his boss once he’s served his time. And he probably knows that he would be a prime target for a shiv in the gut if he ever changed his mind.

“Not that we’re likely to get our hands on the slimy bastard any time soon anyway. As far as SAC Bridges knows, DuRoy’s still in South America – probably Argentina – holed up in his hideout there with the rest of his family. And since he’s been far more astute in his business dealings and in employing a raft of extremely effective lawyers and accountants, he’s covered his tracks as far as his financial holdings and properties in Cascade are concerned. They’re pretty much untouchable by the law or the IRS, and without Sullivan’s testimony, his involvement in the slave trade and in Blair’s kidnap remains hearsay at best. Sure, his rep is badly tarnished both in social and legitimate business circles, and I doubt he’ll ever achieve his political goals now, but prosecution is unlikely even if he has the balls to come back.

“And it goes without saying that if any of his other cronies had been contemplating taking him down with them, Sullivan’s death while in so-called ‘protective custody’ will almost certainly dissuade them from trying. The man obviously still has his contacts, and his reach is long.

“I’m sorry, gentlemen, but that’s the story so far. You’ll still have to testify against Murphy when he eventually comes to trial on the kidnapping charges, Blair, but it’s unlikely that DuRoy will be implicated as the instigator.”

With a shuddering sigh, Blair managed to finally pull himself together enough to meet his captain’s troubled gaze.

“Thank you, sir, for your concern. I’m really sorry about Mr Sullivan and his guards, not just for my own sake. I had hoped that at least DuRoy would be convicted in his absence for his crimes against humanity so he would be forced to stay wherever he is now. But I guess there’s nothing to stop him returning if he wants to, even if he’ll be _persona non grata_ to a lot of Cascade’s elite now.

“And I just hope he’s managed to find a willing guide for his son,” he added softly. “No guide should be forcibly bonded against their will.”

Hugging his smaller partner close, Jim growled, “Whether he has or not, Chief, he’s not getting his hands on you. I’ll see him dead first!”

Knowing there wasn’t much more to add, Simon dismissed his men. “Take a break, Jim, Blair. Have an early lunch, re-connect, or whatever you need, and I’ll see you back here later this afternoon. And I wouldn’t mind a working lunch myself, if you’re of the same mind, Joel. Come with me, and let me bounce some ideas off you,” and they all rose as one, and left the office, preparing to deal with the latest information in their preferred ways.

\-----------------------------------

A short while later, Jim and Blair sat side by side in Jim’s Jeep in the PD underground parking garage. Turning to study the unusually quiet and pensive figure at his side, Jim squeezed Blair’s knee, saying, “Any preferences for lunch, babe? Whatever you want to do is OK by me, as long as we’re together. I think we both need each other’s company for a while.”

Sad blue eyes regarded him, although Blair did his best to offer a smile of reassurance. “I don’t mind, Jim, honestly. It’s just a pity we can’t go to the loft anymore to reconnect,” he continued wistfully. “I mean, I know I’ve said it before, and I really love our house, but it’s too far out to go there just for a quick lunch.” ‘ _And some cuddling and bonding and lovemaking’_ he added silently to himself, knowing Jim was on the same page. He could feel the waves of care and concern warming him through their empathic link, and hugged the willingly-offered comfort to him.

“Yeah, I know, babe. But we agreed that Megan needed a better apartment, and she wants to buy it if she decides to stay in Cascade permanently. It just didn’t seem right to hang on to two places, and we both love Eli’s – _our_ – house.

“So, what do you say? Shall we pick up some sandwiches and drive out to the marina? It’s a nice day for a change, and you can tell me all about your meeting with Dean Wilson this morning. I mean, I heard a lot of what you were telling Joel, but I’m sure there’s more.”

Congratulating himself in distracting his young guide, Jim grinned and mentally high-fived himself when Blair returned his smile, his enthusiasm growing as he said, “Sure, Jim! It’d be nice to watch the boats and stuff. And I should tell you about what the Dean suggested about my helping out with the Guide Training Programme...” and he was off and running, his eyes sparkling now as Jim started up the Jeep, a satisfied expression on his face.

\------------------------------------

**Cascade Marina, shortly after:**

Jim and Blair sat pressed closely side by side on a bench overlooking the marina, 12” subs clutched in their hands and sharing a large soda between them. Blair’s was tuna on wheat with Swiss cheese and extra salad, while Jim was indulging in a huge and juicy Philly cheese steak sandwich, which in his humble opinion was almost as enjoyable as a Wonderburger with the works. And probably just as unhealthy, according to his health-conscious guide. But Blair hadn’t said a word when he had put their order in, and Jim wasn’t about to make any comment which could put his treat in jeopardy.

They sat in companionable silence for a while, enjoying the rare early summer’s warmth and sunshine while they ate and watched the activity in the marina with serene but somewhat distracted interest. Both men were deep in thought, but were grounded and comforted by each other’s proximity such that neither of them felt unduly stressed for a few precious hours.

Because he didn’t want to spoil their much-needed tranquillity, Blair deliberately refrained from contemplating the latest twist in the trafficking case, and concentrated instead on his conversation with Dean Wilson that morning, and his relief and joy at Jim’s positive reactions to his news. The Dean had begun by running through Blair’s grades for the past academic year, declaring himself more than satisfied with the young guide’s progress. Although both he and Blair knew that Blair’s bonded state meant that he could never take part in the type of lengthy expedition necessary for certain anthropological fields, he was more than happy to back Blair’s desire to specialise in Forensic Anthropology, and had told Blair as much.

And as for Rainier’s Guide Training programme, despite Blair’s having been forced to repress his gifts for so long, the young empath had so much raw talent and pure guiding instinct that his trainers had declared themselves unable to provide him with anything more useful than a few basic pointers and guidelines, plus a whole lot of active encouragement.   Add to that the enormous boost to both his practical exercises and the self-confidence gained through his being the study subject of his friend Sam Okundu’s Master’s thesis. In addition, the department was actually contemplating asking Blair to take on the role of private tutor for the occasional student who could do with some extra tuition. However, this would, of course, be dependent on whether he had the time and the energy outside of his regular studies, and more importantly, his work at the PD as Jim’s guide.

Blair knew he would have to think carefully before committing himself, and would take no steps without consulting his sentinel first, but the fact that the offer had been made in all good faith had cheered him no end.

As far as Jim was concerned, Blair’s shyly-offered additional news was all to the good. An unhappy and hurting guide made for an uber-protective and distracted sentinel, so it was in both their interests to allow Blair to explore and develop his talents in an acceptable environment. He freely admitted to himself that he was more than satisfied with Blair’s devotion to him, and he was justifiably proud of his young guide’s accomplishments thus far. Despite a lack of formal education in his teens, Blair had been the recipient of some high quality individual teaching in several fields by Eli and his trusted fellow academics during his seclusion. His precocious intelligence and ability to soak up information like a sponge meant that he had quickly caught up the few holes in his curriculum once he was accepted at Rainier, such that to all intents and purposes he was fast-tracking with the best, and on course for completing his undergraduate degree in double-quick time.

Of course, there had to be something of a down-side to his stellar performance. Although his teachers loved him – apart from one or two who felt intimidated by his superior intellect – some of his peers resented his rapid development and prodigious output. He was also disliked by a few of his fellow trainee guides, but that was mainly due to jealousy on the grounds that he was bonded already, and to a gorgeous hunk like Jim Ellison to boot. Nevertheless, his kindness and willingness to help any and all those who approached him, plus the potential threat of retribution from his sentinel, tended to keep him out of harm’s way, and he was generally contented with his lot.

Finishing up the last delicious bite of his sandwich, Jim grinned at his partner, saying, “OK to get back now, Chief? I’ve got a pile of reports needing filling out, and I really would appreciate your help?” and he fixed Blair with a pleading look.

Completely unable to deny his beloved sentinel anything, especially when he was on the receiving end of that particular expression, Blair giggled and began to gather up the trash from their meal as he replied, “Of course I’ll help, Jim! But you know, maybe it’s time you considered taking one or two basic IT and typing courses?” Laughing out loud now, he ducked the expected whap upside the head from a grinning Jim, and the pair returned to the jeep ready to face the rest of the day at the PD.

\--------------------------------------

**Leon DuRoy’s ranch and compound, Argentina:**

At around the same time as Jim and Blair were enjoying their chance to reconnect before returning to the MCU, Leon DuRoy sat in his private study, the full force of his piercing gaze brought to bear on his recently-arrived visitor. Physically, DuRoy didn’t appear to have suffered unduly from his forced relocation to his Argentinean ranch. True, he was even more tanned than usual, but his trim body remained in good shape due to Leon’s somewhat narcissistic preoccupation with physical fitness and maintaining his handsome, if somewhat cold and severe, features.

Squirming somewhat under DuRoy’s calculating perusal and uncomfortable to be the recipient of his bosses undivided attention, Bernard Maitland fought the urge to run his finger around the suddenly constricting collar of his dress shirt. Bernard was an old acquaintance of DuRoy’s, but would never presume to call himself a friend. As a partner in a well-respected Cascade law firm, he was undoubtedly successful and talented in his chosen field, but had long ago decided that principles came a poor second to the sort of financial gains to be made by associating himself with an individual such as DuRoy. Certainly his retention by one of the Cascade business world’s major players did the firm – and his own reputation - no harm, but it was what he did outside the law for his client which had provided the most lucrative rewards.

Until now, that was.

When DuRoy had been implicated in various nefarious activities, including the human trafficking ring, Maitland, along with other hand-picked and suitably devious accountants and financial advisors, had managed to contain the damage insofar as DuRoy’s monetary interests and material possessions were concerned, but the scandal that tarnished the man had touched Maitland also, and he was now in a quandary. Because as much as he would have liked to sever his ties with DuRoy, he had first-hand knowledge of the consequences of crossing the man, and he was still greedily reluctant to give up the financial incentives.

Since DuRoy was unwilling to risk any chance of his communications being traced and recorded, he insisted on having reports of recent transactions and proposed deals delivered to him in person in a secure environment, well able to afford to have the messengers flown out on his private Lear jet, hence Maitland’s presence here and now.

Finally letting his uneasy visitor off the hook, Leon smiled tightly and spoke, his tone compelling despite his ostensibly relaxed demeanour.

“So, my dear Bernard. You have some good news for me, do you not? Tell me everything, then I’ll brief you on the next stage of my plans. Because this time I shall not be thwarted!”

And Bernard described in great detail how Leon’s instructions to remove his treacherous ex-employee had been carried out by his remaining contacts in both Cascade’s criminal underworld and law enforcement, leaving him technically free and immune from prosecution on any count, for the time being, at least. It never ceased to amaze Maitland at how a judiciously-applied combination of great wealth, pure arrogance and conspicuous intimidation could render characters like Leon DuRoy virtually Teflon-coated in the cynical eyes of Joe Public if not to an ethical judiciary.

Sitting back in his seat, his hands clasped beneath his chin, DuRoy’s self-satisfied smile became shark-like as he murmured, “Good. Very good indeed! No more than that ungrateful worm Sullivan deserved. And I know I don’t have to worry on Murphy’s account. He stands to gain an impressive reward for his loyalty and silence. And I have plans for his brother-in-law also.

“Now, this is what I want you to arrange for me...” and Maitland gulped involuntarily as DuRoy outlined his next scheme.

\----------------------------

**Blair and Jim’s house, Cascade, later that night:**

Jim lay in the luxurious king-size bed to which he and Bair had treated themselves when they refurbished the master bedroom suite in their shared house. The night-time darkness was no handicap to his sentinel vision as he gazed idly around the room, careful not to disturb the warm bundle of guide currently fast asleep in his arms. Blair was in his customary position, draped half across his sentinel’s broad chest, with his head tucked into Jim’s neck and one leg thrown over Jim’s thighs. Jim smiled gently at the soft snuffling sounds Blair was making, his heart filled with love for the young man as he carefully tightened his hold.

However, his smile became a little strained as he recalled Blair’s earlier distress when troubled once again by nightmares.

Although their afternoon at the PD had indeed included a lot of paperwork, most of which was completed quickly and efficiently by Blair, they had been called out to examine a potential crime scene where Jim’s senses were required to gather as much forensic evidence as possible before handing over to the regular Crime Scene techs.

Thankfully the scene hadn’t been unduly harrowing for Blair, since it actually involved seeking out evidence for large-scale drug dealing rather than dead bodies, but on top of everything else that he had endured throughout the day, he had been mentally and physically exhausted by the time he and Jim had covered the site meticulously.

True, with Blair’s grounding touch and focussed guidance Jim had been able to recover minute traces of drugs and other telling substances from the apparently clean house – enough to warrant the arrest of the building’s occupants on suspicion – but the sustained effort had left the young man drained and drooping, such that Jim asked for and was granted leave to finish for the day and take him home.

Barely able to stay awake long enough to eat a few bites of dinner, Blair made no complaint when Jim steered him upstairs to bed, and after a few minutes of cuddling and gentle reconnecting, the young guide had fallen deeply asleep with Jim following him into welcome oblivion.

However, shortly after, Jim had awoken to twitches, mumbles and sounds of distress coming from the man in his arms, and he knew instantly that Blair was once more suffering from the recurrence of one of his worst nightmares: the one concerning the botched kidnap attempt which had left Jim with a messy if minor head injury and Blair with an excessive guilt complex; having almost brained one of the would-be kidnappers with a paperweight. The kidnapper-turned-snitch who had now been blown up by an assassin’s bomb.

Through their empathic link, Jim was well aware that the most frightening part of the nightmare as far as Blair was concerned was the injury to Jim himself, and no amount of persuasion thus far had convinced Blair that his actions had been anything less than appropriate for the circumstances. So he had simply tightened his hold on the beloved body, and crooned soothing words of comfort until the restless thrashing ceased, and Blair sank once more into a healthy, healing slumber.

Although pleased with his ability to calm and comfort his guide even before the young man wakened fully, Jim was ruefully aware that the nature of his job meant that there would undoubtedly be many more incidents which would cause his gentle guide to suffer undeservedly, and he felt his own pang of guilt at the gradual but inevitable erosion of Blair’s innocence on his behalf.

\----------------------------------

**Part 3: A Nightmare Revisited:**

**Several days later, Rainier University. Hargrove Hall’s Parking Lot:**

Blair grinned happily as he threw his rucksack into the back seat of his elderly Prius, the car he had inherited from Eli. Although some of his fellow students teased him about it, telling him he ought to get something more cool, like a classic muscle car, he always smiled and refused on the grounds that the car represented a link to his deceased friend and guardian that he was in no hurry to break.

He had spent a busy morning, attending two classes and a tutorial followed by a short session with his friend, grad student Sam Okundu, discussing the results of his latest round of test data. As promised, Sam had shown Blair the rough draft of his first chapters, and Blair had been both impressed and humbled by the content. Even as a rough draft, the work was beautifully crafted, and the conclusions drawn from the series of tests Sam had devised for Blair were clear and compelling. Blair was certain the completed thesis would be of great help for future guides, and an important addition to the as yet too small corpus of literature dedicated to Guide Studies as opposed to the popular and well-established Sentinel Studies.

However, he found it hard to recognise himself as the Primary Subject, being far too self-effacing. He quietly admitted as much, only to have Sam give him a warm hug, chastising him gently.

“Blair, my man, some day you’re going to have to accept the fact that you’re a very special guide, babe! I’m glad that you’re not some egotistical bighead. Someone like that would be a pain in the ass to work with. But you need to cut yourself some slack and take the compliments when they come. I for one am heartily grateful you agreed to let me study you, and I assure you that, if anything, I’ve played down your achievements rather than exaggerated them, for your own peace of mind. So stop worrying, OK? Your reputation is safe with me!” And Blair had laughed along with his friend, grateful for his kind words even if not totally convinced.   But it was a nice feeling anyway, and he was still grinning when he climbed into his car, looking forward now to meeting up with Jim at the PD.

As it was a Friday, and many students – and teachers, truth be told – tried to get away early, the campus was relatively quiet when Blair drove away. Although automatically concentrating on his driving, yet Blair still let his thoughts roam free, mulling over his reactions to Sam’s thesis, and briefly wondering what Jim had been up to in his absence. He was really hoping that they could also finish early at the PD, and perhaps have dinner out somewhere together, but he knew that crime in Cascade waited for no man. Still, he could but hope, and perhaps they could at least have a free weekend to themselves. The unexpectedly mild weather would be ideal for a camping or fishing trip, and Blair was just beginning to understand why those pastimes were so beloved by his partner. Grin widening at the thought, he turned carefully out of the main gates and set off for the PD.

Unfortunately, he had no idea that he was the target for unfriendly eyes, which tracked him from the moment he left the campus.

\-------------------------------

Blair was blissfully unaware that he had been under observation for some weeks now, although the watchers, mindful of his bonded status, were careful not to approach him when his sentinel was nearby. They were also careful not to touch either him or his possessions, since it was entirely possible that they could come into contact with the over-protective sentinel in the workplace, and be incriminated by minute traces of guide-scent on their persons.

Because they also worked in Cascade’s Police Department.

When the department underwent a major shake-up and internal investigation following the arrest of ex-Commissioner O’Malley during the trafficking bust, many of the bad apples in the force were uncovered, and either summarily dismissed or indicted, depending on the degree of individual corruption. However, some also managed to escape the net and virtually go underground, hiding within the ranks and keeping to the company of fellow crooked cops, or those that openly sympathised with them, such as the type of homophobic bigots which occasionally managed to slip through the recruitment process. And they weren’t averse to continuing to receive remuneration for services rendered, if it could still be managed without further risk of discovery.

One such individual was a uniformed cop named Sean Kelly, who was none other than the brother-in-law of Joseph Murphy, presently doing jail-time for his part in the attempted kidnap of Blair Sandburg. It was a fact Sean kept to himself, since he was only too aware of the full extent of Murphy’s exploits in the employ of Leon DuRoy, and he had no intention of endangering either himself or his wife and family by providing additional dirt on the man and getting his sentence increased. And he also was not averse to receiving a few back-handers himself when appropriate, happy to supply as much inside information to DuRoy and his cronies as he could glean by keeping his ear to the ground.

When he was approached and offered a chance to get back at the sentinel and guide pair who had caused Joe Murphy to be imprisoned, he agreed with alacrity. Partnered with a twenty-year veteran, Sgt. Bill Johansson, who was one of the old school when it came to opinions about the inclusion of gays and bleeding-heart liberals – and sentinel and guide pairings - on the force; they were perfectly placed and completely amenable to keeping a watchful eye on DuRoy’s intended target.

Another such dirty cop who had managed to cover his back during the internal investigation, was Detective Mitch Kowalski from Vice. He had worked with Jim on occasion when Jim was doing a stint in Vice, and it had to be said that there was no love lost between them. Even before his senses became fully on-line, Jim hadn’t been able to stand the man, hating his penchant for unnecessary violence and mean-spirited bigotry on so many fronts. Jim was certain that the only reason the man hadn’t been kicked out years ago was that the sleazy bastard was so successful in the particular type of undercover operations in which Vice excelled.

For his part, Kowalski had despised the ex-Ranger, considering his attitude to be holier-than-thou and arrogant in the extreme. And it certainly hadn’t helped change his opinion when he had first encountered Ellison’s pretty-boy guide. He recalled only too well being thrown up against the wall of an elevator by the sentinel in full-on primal Blessed Protector mode, and he never forgave an insult. He was therefore only too happy to offer his services to DuRoy’s contact to assist Kelly and Johansson in their on-going observation task. And if that in turn led to his being able to help in the successful snatching of that little pervert Guide Sandburg, he was going to do it.

No one messed with Kowalski and got away with it. Especially not that prick, Ellison.

And now he was in a position to get his own back. He had eagerly agreed to back up Kelly and Johansson on another kidnap attempt, and was just now waiting in the wings, so to speak, for a call from the two uniforms. Everything was in place at last, and the snatch was about to go down.

Oh yes, revenge would be sweet indeed. He was going to help shaft Boy Scout Ellison, and enjoy every moment.

\---------------------------------

Just as his watchers expected, Blair took his usual route to the PD. Avoiding the heavy traffic on the major roads, Blair preferred to take a short-cut through a run-down commercial area, where traffic was light and pedestrians virtually non-existent. Most of the businesses were derelict and boarded up, awaiting re-development once Cascade’s coffers were full enough to initiate it, so the only people who tended to hang out there were either homeless or up to no good. Blair was aware of this, and would never have stopped there, but it shaved many minutes off his travel time between the U and the PD, so he used the route regularly. He was also aware that Jim would definitely not approve of his choice, so hadn’t told him, not wanting to cause his sentinel unnecessary worry. He was about to regret that decision.

As he rounded a corner at the heart of the area, a single whoop and flash of high beams in his rear view mirror warned him of the patrol car behind him, commanding him to pull over. Sighing despondently, he complied, wondering what the summons could be about, because he knew he hadn’t been speeding. Perhaps there was some new change of road use he hadn’t been aware of, and he had transgressed somehow? Whatever it was, he was sure that as long as he was polite, and showed the patrolmen his official PD Guide permit, they would understand and let him go.  Jim wasn’t going to be pleased when he heard about it, though, especially as Blair would have to admit he’d been using the route for some time. But Jim would know if he tried to lie about it. Sometimes their empathic link could be a real nuisance....

Winding his window down as Officer Kelly approached, obviously alert, his hand hovering over his open holster, Blair offered the man a friendly smile even though his insides were quaking. As the second cop climbed out of the unit to join his partner, Blair didn’t like the emotions he could feel coming from them. Curiosity, disdain and dislike hit him hard when he quickly dipped his shields, and he knew they were being deliberately intimidating.

“Can I help you, Officer?” he asked politely. “I didn’t think I was doing anything wrong, sir. Do you need to see my driving licence?” He knew better than to simply reach into his pocket without warning. If the cops were that much on edge, they might shoot first and ask questions later.

“Get out of the car, please, sir,” the first one, Kelly, answered gruffly. “You have a broken brake light, and I can see several other faults with this vehicle,” he added, his eyes flicking contemptuously over the elderly Prius.

As his partner looked on with a mocking leer, Blair knew he had no choice, and climbed out of the car, his anxiety growing as the situation seemed likely to deteriorate quickly.

“Um, I had no idea, Officer,” he stammered. “I mean, Jim makes sure my car is checked over regularly. What else is wrong with it?”

As Johansson started to list completely fatuous so-called defects, Blair’s worst fears were being realised. He was being set up for some reason, although he had no idea why.

Just then, another unmarked car pulled up behind the patrol unit, and Mitch Kowalski climbed out, a hateful sneer twisting his harsh features.

“What have we here, boys? You need any help? Looks like you’ve got yourselves a real bad-ass there!” and he sniggered nastily as he looked Blair up and down.

By now Blair was truly terrified. If the emotions coming from the other two cops were unpleasant, the sheer malice, cruelty and even lust rolling off Kowalski shocked the empath to the core. Blair knew Jim and Detective Kowalski had a history, and he had always managed to avoid the man so far when at the PD, but now there was no escape. Desperate now, and scared beyond rational thought, the young man’s fight or flight reflex kicked in, and he whipped around, intending to make a run for it, whatever the consequences.

However, Mitch was more than prepared for the reaction, and before Blair had even set off, he tackled the small guide, and had him in a headlock, easily subduing the struggling figure as a large SUV pulled up, its tinted windows obscuring the occupants completely. A dark-clothed and masked figure jumped out of the passenger door, and Blair got a swift impression of focussed intent before a jab in his exposed neck told him he had been injected with something. He barely had time to think ‘ _Oh, JIM!’_ before the drugs kicked in and he knew no more.

A second man joined the first, and they wordlessly bundled the limp body into the back of the SUV and pulled away with barely a nod in the cops’ direction.

After watching the vehicle pull away, Kowalski turned to the others.

“OK, guys. Have you got your stories straight? If we corroborate each others’ versions we should be able to keep Ellison off our backs. And once the kid’s bonded to Leon’s son, I don’t think Ellison’ll be in any shape to do anything about it. Job done!” and he laughed spitefully, unsurprised when his fellow conspirators joined in.

\--------------------------------

**Same time, MCU bullpen:**

Jim sat at his desk, staring fixedly at the fuzzy and indistinct images flickering across his computer screen. In a moment of weakness that morning, he had offered to check out some CCTV footage from the scene of an armed robbery - part of H and Rafe’s latest caseload – to see if his enhanced vision could glean more detailed information from the film. Despite being cleaned up as much as possible by the department’s IT techs, it remained very poor quality, so H and Rafe were hoping that Jim’s ‘super-sight’ could make more from it. He frowned a little as the first niggling signs of a low-grade headache began to make themselves known behind his eyes. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he closed his eyes for a moment, fighting off the discomfort and dialling his sight back down to slightly below normal to compensate for the strain. In truth, he knew he had over-exerted himself, and his senses were letting him know that they were in need of Blair’s grounding touch, and reconnection with his guide.

Glancing at his watch, he grinned slightly as he realised salvation was close at hand, and sighed in gratitude, having reached out as far as he dared through his and Blair’s empathic link and ‘feeling’ that his guide was on his way. He sat back, sighing gustily as relief suffused his taut features, eagerly anticipating the peace and instant release from tension that his partner’s presence always bestowed on him.

Suddenly, however, he stiffened, sitting bolt upright in his chair, a feral growl rising from deep in his throat. The reaction was enough to startle Megan and Joel, who were working nearby, and they exchanged concerned glances before looking worriedly over at their agitated colleague. The next instant, Jim’s face creased into an anguished grimace, and, leaping to her feet, Megan hurried over to Jim’s desk, Joel hot on her heels.

“Jimbo? Jimbo! You OK, love? What’s got you rattled?   Is it Sandy?”

Jim forced his tightly-closed eyelids open, and dimly registered their presence, although it was obvious that his attention was elsewhere as he muttered through clenched teeth, “Blair! He’s in trouble. Something’s wrong...he’s scared...no, terrified! Oh, god!!”

At that moment, a spike of agony shot through Jim’s mind as he was blasted by his lover’s mental shriek. _Oh, Jim!!!_ Then the connection slammed shut, and he was left bereft and adrift, his sensory anchor gone. Clutching his head, he lurched up from his seat only to fall senseless at his colleagues’ feet, chair clattering to the floor beside him, virtually catatonic and in a deeper zone than any he had ever yet experienced.

Instantly dropping to her knees beside her fallen comrade, Megan automatically began to stroke his hair, crooning nonsense words as her instincts as a low-grade guide came to the fore. She knew she didn’t have the talent or the skills to bring him out of such a deep zone unaided, but she could at least try to comfort him a little.

Alerted to the disturbance by the crash of falling furniture – and the falling body – Simon rushed out from his office and hurried to Joel’s side, gazing down at his comatose detective in real concern.

“Holy shit! What’s going on?” he demanded. “What’s happened to set Ellison off like this? He must have overloaded on _something!_ ” and he gazed quickly around the room as if he expected to see whatever had caused Ellison’s zone.

Joel shut off his cell phone, having just completed his call to the Sentinel and Guide Medical Unit, demanding their urgent assistance for a sentinel-related medical emergency. Shaking his head in bewilderment, he answered as best he could.

“I don’t know, Simon! One minute he seemed fine – a little stressed maybe – and the next he screamed in agony, and collapsed!”

Looking up at her boss, tears running unheeded down her face, Megan added, “It’s Sandy, captain, I’m sure of it. I heard Jim mutter something about Blair being scared and in trouble, and that’s when he collapsed. We _have_ to locate Sandy, sir! And fast!”

\--------------------------------

**Some hours later, Cascade General Hospital Sentinel and Guide Unit:**

Simon sat beside Jim’s bed, watching his detective intently for any sign of a return to consciousness and awareness. On admission, Jim had been administered with a strong dose of dampeners to suppress his potentially erratic senses and counteract any possible violent spikes from incapacitating the sentinel on waking, and since then had shown gradual signs of coming out of his deep zone. He was being aided and encouraged on a rotating shift by the department’s three unbonded but professional guides, whose continuous and earnest efforts made up to a certain extent for their relatively moderate individual empathic capability. Nevertheless, it was nothing more than a temporary measure; as Simon and the medical staff knew only too well, but they all hoped that it would give Jim a little time and breathing space in which he could more or less function normally enough to help in the desperate search for his true guide.  

Before they both succumbed to the loss of their bond, and perished alone.

Curbing his impatience with difficulty, Simon ruefully admitted to himself that his agitation was partly due to his unaccustomed feeling of futility, but more because he hated to see his friend in this condition. Because he thought of Jim as a real friend now, not just one of his people, though god knew he cared for each and every one of them. And who couldn’t feel anxious for Jim’s young guide? Blair was almost impossible to dislike, and Simon wryly acknowledged that the boy had grown on him despite his attempts to keep him at arm’s length. Hell, he was more like a second son to Simon, and his possible loss was devastating. Forcibly pushing such depressing thoughts aside, Simon leant forward, having heard the softest hint of a moan escape from Ellison’s lips. Realising that the sentinel was finally coming out of his zone; albeit in the tiniest of increments; he nodded to Guide Ellen Bowen, Jim’s current helper, a hopeful look spreading across his troubled face.

“Finally! I think we’re finally getting through to him! I can’t thank you and your colleagues enough for working with Jim. To be honest, I thought it was a long shot, knowing how strong his bond with Blair is, but it seems to have worked – temporarily, at least.”

Ellen smiled tiredly up at him, touched by the ferocious-looking captain’s obvious concern for his detective. Like her fellow guides, she was well acquainted with Jim and Blair, and had to admit that, although they all thought Blair was a real sweetie, Alpha Sentinel Ellison was pretty intimidating. Having said that, he was also awe-inspiring, honourable, and drop-dead gorgeous, so she was more than happy to try and help him. And hoped to the depths of her soul that Blair would be found soon before either of them was damaged beyond healing. Or worse still, dead.

“It’s a pleasure and an honour, Captain Banks, truly. Sentinel Ellison and Guide Sandburg are pretty much the heroes of the Sentinel and Guide Department, and we would do anything to help them. I just hope that Detective Ellison – Jim - can hold it together long enough to find and reconnect with Blair. I think I speak for all of us when I say that we adore Blair. He’s the best thing that could have happened to Jim, and even though some of us had our own hopes in that direction, their bond was meant to be. And although he probably doesn’t know it, and wouldn’t admit it if he did, he’s one of the reasons that persuaded more of us to come out and embrace our guide capability. All of a sudden, bonding with a compatible sentinel looks like the right thing to do and it’s happening with increasing regularity, in Cascade, at least.”

Turning her attention back to the man in the bed, she continued to stroke his arm with a gentle touch, murmuring almost sub-vocally, “It’s OK, Jim. You can come back now. Captain Banks is here to see you. You need to wake up fully now. Blair needs you!”

And that was enough to make Jim’s eyes flutter open at last as the soft words registered.

Fighting his way back to full awareness, Jim blinked to clear his bleary eyes, and peered almost myopically over at his two bedside companions. “Simon? That you?” he croaked, voice hoarse due to his uncomfortably dry throat.

Quickly reaching for a beaker of water and a straw, Simon replied, “Yeah, Jim. It is. And Guide Ellen Bowen. Guide Bowen and her colleagues have been working non-stop on you for several hours now, trying to get you to wake up. How do you feel? And can you tell me what happened?”

Taking a few sips of water, Jim welcomed the blessed relief as the cool liquid soothed his sore throat. However, as soon as he felt able to speak, he pushed the beaker away with a nod of thanks, and turned his full attention on Simon, a frown of consternation on his face as he demanded urgently, “Have you located him? Do you have any clues as to where Blair is? I need him, Simon. I have to find him!”

“Easy, Jim. Settle down a minute. Don’t go and undo Guide Bowen’s hard work. In answer to your question, no, we haven’t traced Blair yet. We have no idea of his status, but perhaps you can tell us? Tell me what you know, then I’ll catch you up on what we’re doing to find him.”

Sinking back against his pillows with a groan, Jim muttered, “Christ! I feel like shit! Did they sedate me?”

Nodding gravely, Simon replied, “Yes, Jim. The doc reckoned that, since it was probably a massive sensory spike that caused your zone, you needed to wake up to normal level senses, basically to try and prolong your sanity!”

Sighing in resignation, eyes closed for a moment, Jim murmured almost to himself, “Thought as much. Everything feels muffled. Like I’m wrapped in cotton wool. I hoped I’d never feel like this again. Never be without my guide.” Then, rousing himself determinedly, he spoke more firmly, addressing both of his visitors.

“Thanks for bringing me round, Ellen. And thank your colleagues for me, OK? I appreciate it, truly.

“As to what happened, Simon, all I can tell you is that I knew Blair was on his way to meet me. I know it’s hard to comprehend, but our link is very strong, and I could feel it when he left Rainier. As I tried to explain before, it’s not telepathy, more that we can share each other’s emotions, and interpret what they mean. He was happy, eager. Looking forward to seeing me so we could reconnect. Then suddenly he got distracted by something. I felt him get scared, then terrified. He screamed for me, then nothing. He’s not dead, Simon,” he added quickly when the older man flinched back in shock. “Believe me, I’d know it if he was. Even Ellen and her friends would never have brought me out of a zone induced by my guide’s death. But he’s not conscious. Probably heavily sedated rather than physically knocked out, because I think I’d feel that too. The link’s still there, but dormant, not broken.

“And he’s not in Cascade anymore, Simon. He’s been taken somewhere a long way away from here. And the gods help him – and me – if it’s the slavers who’ve grabbed him. But if it’s them, I swear I won’t rest until they’re finished! Somehow, I’ll keep going until I either get him back, or we’re all dead!” and the primal fury settling over his features was all the proof Simon and Ellen needed that he meant every word.

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that, Jim. But you know I’ll do everything in my power to find Blair, don’t you? The department’s working overtime on this, I assure you.

“Now, as to what we’ve done so far. If Ellen will get the doc in here to sign you out, I’ll fill you in while we wait, then you can get started.”

\------------------------------------

Shortly afterwards, Jim and Simon entered the MCU bullpen, which was humming with activity. Jim had been discharged with strict orders from his doctor that he take the strong suppressant medication he had been prescribed as often as needed. Although Jim insisted he needed to utilise his senses to assist in the efforts to retrieve Blair, he was intelligent enough to know that without his true guide, he would have to use them sparingly, and resort to the tablets at the first sign of spiking or zoning. His primal instinct was to tell everyone to go to hell, and throw himself headlong into the search, but the reasonable man inside realised the stupidity of such a course, which could only lead to rapid burn-out, and the inevitable abject failure to rescue the most important person in his life.

Nevertheless, by working with the official department guides, or even Megan to help ground him as much as possible, he was determined to use his senses as much as he could, because what good were they, if he couldn’t even employ a modicum of his gift to aid the search?

And the first thing he needed to do was to sit in on a further round of interviews with the cops who had last seen Blair. As he told Simon, he insisted on using his senses as much as he could to check out their veracity, even though Simon had confirmed that the initial reports suggested no procedural irregularity.

“Look, Jim, I know you don’t want to hear this, and god only knows what Blair was thinking of, but Kelly and Johansson were only doing their duty when they pulled him over in the Barnes-Meyer commercial district. It’s no good place to be unless you’re up to no good. And they said that Blair was driving erratically, which is why they pulled him over. They didn’t expect him to run!”

“I don’t believe it, captain! OK, Blair might have been taking a short cut, and we’ll be having words about that when I get him back, but he wouldn’t just have run without cause! And what was Mitch Kowalski doing there? I don’t buy that bullshit about him looking for a snitch in the neighbourhood. And even if he was, and his presence was no more than coincidence, I know him, Simon, and I know he has an axe to grind with me. It’s not unlikely that he would use scare tactics on Blair just to get back at me. Shit, Simon, I worked with the guy when I was in Vice, and I know he can be one vicious asshole when he wants to be! And I really don’t buy that crap about Blair jumping into some SUV voluntarily. He’s far too wary! He’s had the fear of slavers drummed into him since childhood. He simply wouldn’t do it!”

“I hear you, Jim! I do! But I asked Donald and Shirley Michaels from Homicide to sit in on the original interview, and Donald said he didn’t pick up on anything untoward. It was the best I could do, with you out of action.”

Sighing in frustration, Jim replied, “I know, captain, and I appreciate that everyone’s been doing their best, but like I told you before, Donald Michaels isn’t a full sentinel. He’s good, but with only two truly enhanced senses, I’m going to be more effective than him, even working way below par. And that’s not arrogance, Simon. It’s a fact. I need to interview them again!”

\----------------------------------

An hour later, Jim was grinding his teeth in frustration, the muscles of his jaw jumping with the strain. Although he was convinced of some sort of collusion between the three cops he had interviewed alongside Simon, it was more instinct than actual proof, sensory or otherwise. Kelly and Johansson had stuck to their story that they had seen and recognised Blair’s car driving through the derelict and mostly deserted commercial area, and were concerned that he seemed to be driving erratically. Knowing that he was Jim’s guide, they thought he might be having some sort of trouble with his empathy, so pulled him over to check him out. As they were interviewing him, they both claimed that he was anxious and jittery, and got positively panic-stricken when he saw Detective Kowalski drive up. He ran off, and although they gave chase, they said he cut through several alleyways, then jumped into a dark-coloured SUV which pulled up for him, and which then drove off in a hurry. And all three confirmed they were too far away to see a licence plate. And wouldn’t you know it; there was no CCTV footage available from active cameras in that particular area, so there was no help to be had from that source. They called it in, and had Blair’s car towed back to the PD. End of story.

And Jim knew they were lying through their teeth.

The problem lay in the fact that, with his senses working at less than full capacity, and without his guide’s grounding touch, he was unable to pick up definitive nuances of guilt or falsehood in their physiological reactions. Although the legal system now generally accepted results obtained from recognised sentinel / guide pairs using their combined skills to act as organic ‘lie-detectors’, in this case all the measurable readings in each man remained within explainable parameters as far as legal purposes were concerned. They had all passed Donald Michaels’ original test, and if the results of Jim’s second attempt differed, then as Simon pointed out, not without a touch of asperity, Jim was an intimidating man. He was also a sentinel in full Blessed Protector mode, almost feral in his desperation for any hint of his guide’s present location. He was easily capable of putting the fear of god into a suspect, and even innocent fellow colleagues were likely to react in some way to his fierce and unrelenting interrogation skills. Without the literal backing of his bonded guide, his findings would never be accepted by the courts, and it mattered not at all that Simon believed his allegations.

And since Kowalski had been careful to shower thoroughly and change his clothes after his encounter with Blair, there was no tell-tale scent left on his person to suggest that he had had any physical contact with the guide. A quick trip to the laundry took care of the contaminated clothing, and any residual scent left by the cops on Blair’s car was in line with what would be expected when they searched it before having it towed away.

It was time for Jim to try other lines of enquiry, although he swore to himself that he would drag the truth out of the three once Blair was safely back in his arms and under his protection once again.

\-------------------------------------

**Part 4: A Rude Awakening:**

**Leon DuRoy’s compound, Argentina:**

Despite his best efforts to cling to the comforting darkness, Blair rose slowly to consciousness, his drug-befuddled brain fighting to make sense of his surroundings. He was immediately assaulted by the emotions of at least three people in the vicinity of the admittedly very comfortable bed in which he was lying, and tried to pull the tattered remnants of his protective barriers around him, with minimal success. Whimpering almost sub-vocally, he instinctively reached out to Jim through their empathic connection, only to come up with a frightening blankness, and he realised immediately that Jim was too far away for him to be able to ‘feel’ his guide’s urgent and needy summons. He was unable to completely curb the soft sob of distress that rose in his throat, and he felt one of the men approach, all the time keeping his eyes firmly closed in a futile attempt to disguise his return to the waking world.

Unlike the other two men close by, whose anger and irritation battered at the empath’s mind as they carried on their heated argument, albeit in low tones in deference to the boy in the bed, this one’s coolly dispassionate and professional demeanour suggested to Blair that he was some sort of doctor or carer. Whoever he was, his touch was gentle as he felt Blair’s forehead, and his words were spoken in a heavily-accented but precise manner, carefully moderated to cause his patient as little additional distress as possible.

Dr Ferdinand Montoya was an acknowledged expert in sentinel and guide medicine, and had been retained by DuRoy to treat his son as soon as the family had relocated to Argentina. A capable physician and consummate professional, he disliked both his employer’s attitude and the man’s connections to many less-than-honest but powerful local ‘businessmen’, but his conscience wouldn’t allow him to withhold his care for the man’s troubled son, any more than he could refuse to treat this young newcomer.

“Senor DuRoy. The boy is waking up. Do you wish for me to administer another dose of dampeners? If he is as gifted an empath as you say, his shields will be very weak now after prolonged sedation, and he needs help.”

At his words, the other men abruptly ceased their fierce, if hushed altercation, and approached the bed, and Blair’s eyes reluctantly flickered open to watch them. His dismay ratcheted up even further as he recognised the elder of the pair. As he had feared, it was Leon DuRoy, and Blair moaned in pain as the man’s anger and attention was focussed on him. However, the younger one, whose marked physical similarity to DuRoy confirmed that he was the man’s son, grabbed his father’s arm as he hissed, “No, Dad! You’ll hurt him! Let me...” and he stepped in front of the other, unconcerned at his father’s scowl of displeasure.

Ignoring Blair’s automatic attempt to push himself away, the young man sat on the edge of the bed, his tone surprisingly gentle and understanding as he addressed the hurting guide.

“Ssshhh, Blair. It’s OK. Let me help you. I know your barriers are pretty much gone. Let me shield you.”

His unprotected mind cringing from the roiling external emotions continuously battering at him, Blair had no option.

“Sentinel?” he whispered. “Help me. Please...” and sighed in relief as the young man pulled him into strong arms, and he felt the pressure in his head reduce to tolerable levels as the sentinel’s shields wrapped around him. It was by no means as complete and satisfactory a remedy as connection with his own sentinel would have been, but as a temporary measure it would suffice, and Blair was grateful for the respite as he leaned into the young sentinel’s embrace.

Unremarked by the two young men, a self-satisfied smirk spread across DuRoy’s severe features, and he beckoned autocratically to Dr Montoya. “Come, Doctor,” he said firmly. “I think your work here is done for now. Let’s leave them to get acquainted,” and he ushered the other man from the room, blatantly ignoring the disquiet on the physician’s face.

\-----------------------------------

Leon DuRoy Jnr. looked down fondly at the young man resting in his arms, revelling in how good his senses felt for once without the deadening and unsatisfactory effects of chemical suppressants. He was amazed at the depth of feeling he already had for Blair Sandburg, despite only just having met him, and he knew he could easily grow to love the attractive young man. He knew very well that his instinctive desire to protect and cherish Blair was an intrinsic facet of sentinel behaviour, and had no bearing on his perceived sexuality. He had always considered himself to be completely heterosexual, but it was a fact that between compatible sentinels and guides, same-sex partnerships were frequent and accepted by most of society. And who wouldn’t want to have a relationship with someone as lovely as Blair Sandburg?

The trouble was that, for once in his privileged life, Leon knew that he couldn’t have what he wanted. Despite what his father thought, a guide like Blair couldn’t be bought, or forced. Blair was already claimed and bonded, and Leon knew it was to a far stronger sentinel than himself. And such a bond couldn’t be broken without permanent damage to both parties.  He was well aware that he had led a thoroughly spoiled and indulged existence thus far, and was unused to having his desires thwarted, but in this case, it couldn’t happen. He could no more hurt this guide, or allow his father to hurt him, than he would willingly cut off his own arm. His lips twisted in a sardonic and self-deprecating sneer as he faced up to the truth. Who’d have thought it? Leon DuRoy Jnr. actually prepared to deny himself in order to help another?

But that’s what had to happen, if Blair wasn’t to die a painful and drawn-out death mourning the loss of his bonded sentinel. Now he just had to convince his father to do the right thing.

Just then, Blair stirred restlessly in his arms, and Leon helped him to sit up, keeping his arm around the younger man’s shoulders as they rested against the padded headboard, propped up and supported by several pillows.

“How’re you feeling, Blair?” Leon enquired softly, his concern entirely genuine for once. “Can you manage to make do with this level of shielding for a while until I can figure out how to get you back to your sentinel?”

Blinking up at the good-looking young man holding him, Blair whispered, “Yes, I’m OK, thank you. I mean, my head hurts some, but I’ll be OK for a while. Thanks to your protecting me, that is. I mean, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted nothing to do with me. As a bonded guide, I’m no use to you in the long-term, but I’ll help you as much as I can while I’m here. But please, please don’t keep me for too long. I can’t live without Jim...” and his voiced tailed off in misery as his eyes filled with unwanted but uncontrollable tears.

Squeezing him tighter, Leon replied, “Hush, babe. It’ll be OK, I promise. I mean, I wish with all my heart that you were free, because then I admit I’d have no problem with Dad acquiring you for me. You’re beautiful, Blair, inside and out. I can tell. But I can’t and won’t allow you to be hurt because of me. Much as I hate to admit it, the sentinel in me won’t let it happen, although god knows I hate myself for it!” and he snickered in self-disgust. “Who’d have thought I was capable of doing the right thing, huh? None of my family and friends for sure. They know me too well!”

Pulling himself up and around so he could look properly at his companion, Blair frowned a little as he ‘read’ Leon. Contemplating the other man for a moment, a slightly perplexed expression on his mobile features, Blair answered honestly, wanting to explain what his empathy was telling him. Voice quiet but determined despite his habitual reticence, he said, “I think you’re being too hard on yourself, Sentinel. I feel the good in you,” and then had to smile a little in response to Leon’s unforced chuckle, realising that he must sound like he was channelling Luke Skywalker.

“OK, I asked for that, I guess,” he continued wryly, blushing endearingly at Leon’s wide and appreciative grin. “But it’s true anyway. You could make some guide a wonderful sentinel, given the chance. The basic qualities are all there. I can feel them. Strength, determination and the capacity for love. Just because you’ve never been given much reason to exercise those qualities for the good doesn’t mean you can’t learn to in time. With the right companion to support and guide you.

“And I swear to you, if you’ll help me get back to Jim, I’ll do everything I can to find you a guide of your own. Rainier University in Cascade is one of the foremost centres for Sentinel and Guide Studies now, and more and more guides are enrolling to study there. Sooner or later there must surely be one who will suit you.”

As Leon regarded him carefully, a frown of consternation on his handsome face as he tried to absorb the guide’s words, he noted that Blair was struggling not to yawn as his exhaustion and reaction to his prolonged sedation caught up with him.

“Well, you’ve certainly given me pause for thought, babe, but for now I think you need to freshen up, have something to eat, and then get some more sleep. I’ll show you the bathroom, and go and get you some fresh PJs. When you’re done, I’ll have a tray sent up for you, OK? I’ll have to keep the door locked, I’m afraid, because Dad will expect it. But try not to worry. I’m going to talk to him, but if I can’t convince him to change his mind, we’ll have to come up with another plan. And I shall think of something, Blair. I promise.”

\-----------------------------------

Three days later, Leon was growing increasingly frustrated with his father’s obstinate refusal to listen to his son’s arguments, convinced as he was that he was following the only acceptable course of action. DuRoy refused point-blank to consider that his reasoning was deeply flawed, finding the notion inconceivable that he had in effect condemned a sentinel and guide to death. He could care less about what happened to Detective Ellison anyway, and remained certain that his son was strong enough to create a new bond with Sandburg. As long as Blair functioned well enough to ground his son’s senses, who cared if the young guide’s miserable life had to be prolonged indefinitely with a combination of drugs and forced bonding?  And if his son and that idiot Montoya were correct after all, and Sandburg did eventually succumb to his pain and loss, then DuRoy would simply find another to take his place. Not that he wanted to have to resort to that course of action, though. It took a lot of time and trouble he could well do without to locate a suitable match, and in theory at least, young Blair was the perfect choice. Pretty, intelligent and a highly-rated empath, he should be the answer to all DuRoy’s prayers....

“I’m telling you, Dad...” and his son’s angry voice cut across his wandering thoughts again. “Blair will _die_ if he can’t reconnect with Ellison! He can’t bond with me while his sentinel is alive anyway, and don’t even _think_ of having Ellison removed! Blair’ll die for sure then! Are you even _listening_ to me?” and Leon Jnr’s voice rose to an aggrieved shout as he shoved his way aggressively into his father’s personal space.

Patience at an end, DuRoy finally snapped, and did something to which he had never yet resorted. He slapped his son hard across the face, snarling, “Don’t you _dare_ raise your voice to me in that way again! Sandburg stays here, and that’s final! Go to your room, fuck the little bastard, or whatever you need to do, and be grateful I don’t cut off your allowance! You’ve wanted for nothing. _Nothing!_ Ever, all your life! But defy me now and you’ll find out just what it’s like to have to earn your living for a change. At least you’ll be able to do it in control of your senses, thanks to me!”

Hand raised to his sore cheek, Leon’s stunned expression slowly changed to one of cold fury as he stared at his father, whose own face was incandescent with rage. He had never seen his father so out of control, his trademark cold, calculating and totally focussed demeanour completely deserting him for once. With the tables turned in behavioural terms, it was the younger DuRoy who now adopted a frigid and deliberate tone.

“Don’t threaten _me_ Dad. You may be able to use Mom as your own personal doormat, but it won’t work with me. You’ve raised me too well for that, and I won’t stand for it. And don’t even _think_ of hurting Blair! He’s worth more to me than you and all your millions. And I still intend to see him reunited with his true sentinel. Out of character? Yeah, maybe. But it’s a sentinel and guide thing, Dad, and there’s nothing I – or you – can do about it.” And so saying, he turned about, and strode towards the ornate and sweeping staircase, intending to go to Blair, but to offer comfort, not to fuck him.

DuRoy gaped in silence, aghast as his tall, handsome and furious son marched purposefully up the stairs, unable for long, confused moments to grasp what had happened between them. Although he was well aware that Leon Jnr. had a temper, he had never responded like that before, and had never defied his father so determinedly. No one, not even his own son, had ever dared to address him in that manner, and DuRoy didn’t appreciate it one bit. An utterly ruthless and self-centred man, DuRoy was accustomed to getting his own way, and to being treated with respect and deference by all and sundry. Recently, however, things had started to go wrong for him. He had been forced to leave his beautiful property just outside Cascade, and had watched his political aspirations go up in flames as he was implicated in several illegal activities. Sure, he had managed to contain the damage, and even had hopes of returning to Cascade one day to reclaim his life there for his son’s sake. But it would never be the same, and he would never regain the sort of elevated status he had once accepted as no more than his due. And, come to think of it, there was one common denominator in all his failures. Blair Sandburg. It was all his fault! For being the guide Leon Jnr. needed. For being bonded already to that Neanderthal detective, Ellison. For being smart enough to evade the first attempt to kidnap him, and for being the unwitting instigator of the investigation into DuRoy’s affairs. Thanks to Sandburg, Brad Sullivan was captured, and the treacherous little shit had chosen to testify against his employer. And the rest was history.

But no more. His long-buried and rigorously-controlled resentment now boiled over, threatening his very sanity. To DuRoy’s bitter and twisted way of thinking, enough was enough, and he had the option, no, the _right_ to take his revenge on the helpless boy locked away upstairs. Sandburg had even turned his beloved son against him, so guide or not, he deserved to die. Painfully. And to hell with the consequences.

Mind made up, and acting for perhaps the first time in his life on pure, unreasoning animal instinct, DuRoy charged up the stairs after his son, growling in wordless aggression as he stretched out to grab the younger man’s shoulder as he reached the top step. Leon Jnr. whipped around, his fist automatically raised to retaliate when the inevitable happened. DuRoy lost his balance, and, arms windmilling uselessly in an attempt to halt his backward momentum, with a despairing cry he crashed down the long staircase to land in a tangled heap on the marble floor below.

Momentarily stunned by shock, Leon watched wide-eyed as his normally timid and mouse-like mother emerged silently from her parlour and crossed the wide hall to stand over her fallen husband. She stood blank-faced for a moment, before kneeling gracefully beside the crumpled figure, reaching out to press her fingers against his awkwardly twisted neck, seeking a pulse. Moving carefully to avoid getting stains from a freely-bleeding head wound on her immaculate dress, she stood again, and looked up to meet her son’s gaze.

“He’s not dead, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I think he may well have broken something. Or several somethings. I’ll go and call Dr Montoya. He’ll know what to do.” And with a definite sneer of disdain on her pale face, she stepped fastidiously over the motionless body and returned unhurriedly to her room to pick up the phone and make the requisite call.

\-----------------------------------

**Meanwhile, in Cascade:**

While Blair was languishing in Argentina, Jim was driving himself to exhaustion and his friends and colleagues to distraction as he searched ceaselessly for his lost guide. Utterly convinced that DuRoy was behind this second kidnapping, he was pursuing every lead and calling in every marker he was owed to discover the location of the man’s South American bolt-hole. He had even contacted one of Blair’s teaching friends from Rainier.

Jack Kelso was an ex-CIA man, who had been crippled by a bullet in the back and was now confined to a wheelchair. Thoroughly disillusioned with his ex-employers, he had written a very popular but damning exposé on the dealings of the clandestine agency, and was now teaching political science at Rainier. He had befriended Blair early in the student’s first term, and had earned Jim’s respect when they had met up on occasion on campus. When Jim had contacted him and told him of Blair’s disappearance, he had been genuinely horrified on behalf of his young friend, and had thrown himself into a search for information regarding DuRoy’s likely whereabouts, promising Jim that he would call him the moment he had some news.

On the fourth day after Blair’s disappearance, a pale-faced and wrung-out Jim sat hunched over his desk in the MCU bullpen. Stretched to the limit of his endurance, he had worked tirelessly to unearth some hint of his guide’s whereabouts, but so far had come up against nothing but dead ends. His senses were cutting in and out on him despite a combination of medication and help from Megan and the department guides, and his despair was only intensified when he thought of how his beloved guide must be suffering also. He was still convinced that Blair was alive, but judging by his own increasingly rapid debility, the empath must be in a sorry state indeed. He rubbed at his sleep-deprived and itching eyes, then stared at his lowered hands, despising the faint tremors he could see in the elegant fingers. He knew very well that his friends and colleagues were watching him carefully, their concern evident even as they consistently adopted an air of false confidence and bravado, trying to project an optimism none of them really believed in any longer.

Angrily shaking himself out of his funk, he fought off the growing feeling of despondency, grimly determined to keep on looking until he finally collapsed under the strain. And it was at that moment when he caught his first real break.

When the telephone on his desk rang insistently, he grabbed the handset, barking out, “Ellison!”   The caller identified himself as Jack Kelso, and the news he had to impart had Jim clutching the edge of his desk with a white-knuckled grip as he absorbed the man’s succinct and urgent words.

“Where is this? You’re sure? OK. Thanks Jack. I owe you. We both owe you! You bet! As soon as I get there....” Jim put the handset down with exaggerated care, breathing deeply as he fought to control his tumultuous emotions. Glancing up, he realised that the bullpen had fallen silent, and that everyone was staring over at him, their various expressions a combination of worry, puzzlement, and tenuous hope.

“I know where he is! I’m going to bring my guide back!” and Jim whirled around and strode over to Simon’s office, leaving a trail of shouted questions and astonished looks and comments in his wake.

Pushing open the office door without waiting for his captain’s invitation to enter, Jim cut to the chase as he met and held Simon’s frowning and quizzical gaze.

“Simon! Jack Kelso just called. He’s located DuRoy’s compound, captain! It’s in Argentina. And I know Blair’s there! Don’t ask me how, but I promise you he’s there! I’m going to get him back. Now!”

“Whoa, whoa, Jim! Just one minute!” Simon replied quickly, holding out his hands in a staying gesture. “Don’t go off at half-cock, Jim. Just tell us everything you know, and we’ll take it from there. You’re going to need our help!”

Realising that Megan, Joel, H and Rafe had pushed into the office behind him, and were hanging on every word, Jim took a calming breath and fought to contain his impatience, realising that his friends had no intention of letting him go it alone.

“OK. OK! Kelso called in a few favours from his remaining contacts in the CIA, and they knew exactly where DuRoy had gone. He has a ranch-cum-compound in an isolated area of Argentina, and already had existing connections with the local crime lords, so as far as he’s concerned, it’s been business as usual. They’ve been monitoring the situation ever since DuRoy took up permanent residence, hoping to take advantage of the information gained through their surveillance to track down and neutralise even bigger fish who pose a threat to our national security.

“Kelso says his contacts are aware of the son’s sentinel ability, and they’ve been keeping tabs on the doctor DuRoy’s been retaining to treat him. The doctor’s apparently quite legit, and although the guy won’t admit it outright – patient confidentiality and all that – he’s been visiting the compound daily for the last few days to administer someone there with prescription drugs. Powerful suppressants. The type an empath would need to stop him overloading.

“Blair’s there, Simon. I know it. And I’m going to get him back whether you can help me or not. I still have my own contacts from my covert ops days, so you don’t have to worry that I’ll get any of you into hot water for doing something unofficial. I’ll just make some calls--”

“Wait, Jim!” Simon interjected sharply. “Just be patient for a little longer, man! Before you start organising some sort of clandestine commando raid or personal vendetta, let me do some calling around of my own, and see if we can’t get an official rescue mission set up? We all want that kid back, Ellison, and not just for your sake. He’s a good kid, and an asset to the department even if he isn’t full-time yet. Let us help you!”

Breathing heavily, jaw twitching again as he ground his teeth together in frustration, Jim finally gave a reluctant nod. “OK, captain. And thanks for the support. But if your calls don’t meet with success, I’m going ahead with my own plans. Blair doesn’t have long before permanent damage is done. He could even be dying as we speak.”

“I understand, Jim. Now, let’s get this show on the road....” Suddenly, Simon was interrupted by the shrill ring of his office phone. Grabbing the handset impatiently, he snarled “Banks! Cascade MCU!” only for his expression to change abruptly from irritation to shock. Despite his senses’ increasingly erratic behaviour, Jim was able to make out both sides of the conversation, and his friends studied his face closely, trying to gauge as much as they could from his rapidly-changing expressions.

The voice that responded to Simon’s abrupt identification was young-sounding, but firm and confident, although Jim could discern a slight undertone of anxiety also.

_“Captain Banks. My name is Leon DuRoy Jnr. I think you’ll have heard of me, and I know you’ll be acquainted with my father, sir. I have something I wish to discuss with you regarding the return of a missing person.”_

“I’m listening, Mr DuRoy. What can you tell me about this ‘missing person’? Is he in good health, and what does your father have to say about this? Are you doing this without his knowledge or permission?”

_“Don’t concern yourself with my father, Captain. He no longer has a say in my dealings. But if Detective Ellison is nearby, there’s someone who wants to speak with him.”_

Almost snatching the handset out of Simon’s hand, Jim barked, “Ellison here! Where is he? Where’s Blair?” and his face betrayed deep shock, relief and distress in rapid succession as a tentative voice reached him.

_“J.Jim? It’s me. I.I’m OK, but I need you, so bad! Um...Leon’s been shielding me, but I want to come home. Please Jim, listen to Leon. He only wants to help me...us....”_

“Oh Chief! It’s so good to hear your voice! I’ll see you very soon, I swear it! Look, love, I’m going to put Simon back on to discuss the ways and means with your friend, but I’ll be listening in, OK? Stay strong, baby, for a while longer, OK? Promise me?”

_“I promise, Jim. Love you. Here’s Leon again.”_

“Love you too, babe. Putting Simon back on now...” and Jim handed the phone back with marked reluctance, eyes filled with longing although overall his face and demeanour were lighter and noticeably less tense and troubled as he looked over at his friends.

However, there was more to learn, so he dialled up his hearing once more, and continued to listen in to the ongoing conversation.

“Banks here again, Mr DuRoy. How’re we going to do this? Should Jim fly down to you, or do you have another pickup point in mind? You need to convince me you can be trusted before I let my man come to you. I don’t want him walking into a trap!”

Jim could hear the pained sigh at the other end of the line, even though Leon was commendably patient. Although he must have been somewhat insulted by Banks’ words, the only sign of offence was in the wry tone of his response.

_“I understand, Captain Banks, and I can’t say I blame you. But you can trust me, sir. As I’m sure Detective Ellison will explain to you, I can’t hurt Blair. It’s hard-wired into all of us sentinels whatever our usual behavioural characteristics are. Protect the guide. At all costs._

_“So, this is what I propose. I’ll bring Blair back to Cascade myself on our private jet. He’ll need my continued protection until he can reconnect with his sentinel again. But I won’t be staying in Cascade, even though I hope to return before too long. I have a lot to organise down here, and there’ll be some radical changes._

_“Oh, and I should advise you. You’ll have no further trouble from my father. He no longer runs our business interests,”_ the young man added cryptically, having no intention of explaining the current situation at home just yet.

_“Anyhow, we’ll be leaving within the next couple of hours, and I’ll call you again as we’re about to take off. I’m sure Detective Ellison will want to be there to meet Blair on landing. So until then, goodbye, sir.”_

And he terminated the call before Simon could utter a word in reply.

Truly shell-shocked, Jim and Simon stared at each other for long moments, stunned at the rapid turn-around in the situation. Then, realising that his other detectives were still unaware of the latest developments, not having Jim’s advantage of hearing both sides of the conversation, Simon met their rapt and curious gazes, a tentative smile pulling at his lips as he said, “Well, people, it looks like we’ll soon have our guide back where he belongs. That was Leon DuRoy Jnr. on the line, and if he’s on the level, this is what he proposes...”

\----------------------------------------

**Several hours later, Cascade private airport:**

The small contingent from Major Crimes sat together in the luxurious executive lounge at Cascade’s private airport, with the exception of Jim, who paced and prowled endlessly as he waited impatiently for DuRoy’s Lear Jet to land. Simon, Megan, Joel, H and Rafe were taking advantage of the comfortable armchairs and excellent coffee on offer, although they all watched worriedly as their driven colleague continued to wear a path in the plush carpeting. Simon had long given up trying to get his friend to sit and relax a little, but he knew full well that, when whatever adrenalin rush or other force of will keeping the exhausted sentinel on his feet finally deserted him, Ellison was going to crash, and crash hard. It was to be hoped that Blair would be in his arms when that happened, so that they at least had a chance of recovering together. Conversation was limited to brief interchanges and monosyllabic replies as each of them tried to deal with their nervous anticipation in their own way.

Suddenly, Jim stopped in his tracks, and his head came up as he turned to face the wide windows, head cocked to one side as a beatific smile slowly spread across his care-worn features. Although the other observers could see nothing as yet, they all heard his whispered words, and knew him well enough to believe him.

“He’s coming. I can _feel_ him again. Blair! Oh gods, my guide’s come back to me!” As if in a dream, he moved to the window, both hands pressing against the glass as he stared out into the far distance, tracking the plane carrying his lover back to him long before his friends could make out any sign of the approaching aircraft. Although he remained silent, Megan at least was convinced that he was exchanging thoughts and emotions with Blair, picking up the pieces of their damaged empathic link, and forging it anew as they drew physically closer.

At last, the Lear landed, and taxied up to the main building. As the staircase was wheeled out across the tarmac, the small group of friends and colleagues waited just inside the doors of the arrivals suite for the passengers to disembark. Jim stood in front, barely restrained by Simon’s comforting grip on his shoulder, vibrating with impatience and tension as the aircraft doors seemed to take forever to open.

Suddenly, it was done, and the sentinel strode forward, his eyes fixed on one person, and one alone. The most important person in his life, who was so nearly lost to him because of another man’s obsession.

In Jim’s eyes, he was the most beautiful sight he could ever behold, but in truth, Blair looked awful. Weak and trembling, he was gaunt and pale, lines of pain and stress etched deeply on his youthful features making him look as if he had aged ten years in less than a week. He was being almost carried down the steps by a strong and good-looking young man, who held him firmly but carefully, solicitous of his charge’s well-being even now. As they reached the tarmac, Blair offered him a small but genuine smile of appreciation, and then the next moment he was swept up into Jim’s arms, burying his face in his sentinel’s neck as he let go at last, and sobbed unashamedly in overwhelming gratitude, relief and love, their connection already beginning the healing process as Blair clung like a limpet to his life-partner.

Oblivious for the moment of everything around them, secure in the knowledge that Simon and their friends had their backs, Jim simply concentrated on the warm bundle in his arms, scanning, scenting, imprinting and comforting him, although both knew that the final reconnection of the full bond would have to wait until they were safely back in the privacy of their own home turf.

Long minutes later, Jim raised his eyes to glance over Blair’s head at the young man, who still stood on the stairs, watching the touching reunion with a grimace of anguish and loss on his face. However, he met Jim’s gaze unflinchingly as he offered a brief salute. “Your guide, Alpha. No other,” he intoned, his voice firm as he spoke the formal words.

And Jim growled in reply, “My guide. Mine alone!” only to modify his near-primal tone and stance slightly at Blair’s sub-vocal plea.

Nodding brusquely, he added, “My gratitude, sentinel, for shielding my guide for me in my absence. We are in your debt.”

But that was as far as he could unbend for now, his urgent need to carry his guide back to the safety of his territory overriding any other consideration. Sweeping Blair up into his arms, he carried his precious burden back towards the arrivals suite, concentrating solely on following Joel, who had already offered to drive them both home. Blair hid his face in Jim’s neck, unable to cope even with his friends’ emotions yet, but he hoped they would forgive his poor manners for once.

Safely ensconced in the back of Joel’s sedan, Blair fell deeply asleep in Jim’s arms, able at last to relax completely, knowing that he was in the best of hands.

\---------------------------------------

**Shortly after, Jim and Blair’s home:**

The drive back to Jim and Blair’s house was completed in silence as Jim focussed his concentration solely on the sleeping guide in his arms, and an understanding Joel left them in peace, concerned only with getting his friends back to their home as quickly and easily as possible.   On arrival, Jim lifted Blair once again into his arms, and carried his still-sleeping guide to the front door, offering Joel a brief but sincere word of thanks as the other man opened it for him to allow them to enter. Joel simply offered them both a warm and sympathetic smile as he patted Jim’s shoulder, then left them to their own devices. Sentinel and guide needed to reconnect in the most fundamental way, and they didn’t need an audience to monitor them, however understanding.

Although Jim had long passed the point of exhaustion, some last reserves of strength and determination kept him going long enough to carry Blair up to their bedroom where he laid the young man carefully down on the bed. Quickly stripping himself of his own clothing, he then concentrated on undressing his lover, murmuring encouragingly to him as the drowsy guide reacted to their mutual need, and roused himself enough to take a more active role in their lovemaking. Although urgent and swiftly accomplished, their joining was still worshipful, intimate and considerate, and at the moment of their mutual climax, their renewed bond shone bright and true, the fissure that had threatened their conjoined souls closing and healing to leave them stronger than ever.

In the aftermath, both sentinel and guide fell into a deep and healing asleep, wrapped snugly around each other, and able at last to begin their physical rehabilitation, drawing strength from each other’s touch while their linked minds exchanged loving and comforting emotions. No nightmares troubled either man during the long hours of their much-needed rest, and their eventual waking was natural and untroubled, each man basking in the other’s unconditional devotion.

\-------------------------------------

**Part 5: Truth and Consequences:**

**Meanwhile, back at the airport:**

Once Simon was sure that Jim and Blair were safely on their way home, he sent the rest of his team back to the PD, wanting to deal with the next bit of the somewhat bizarre situation on his own. The cop in him wanted no more than to take Leon Jnr. into custody, on suspicion of aiding and abetting Blair’s abduction, but the man who considered himself as a friend of Jim and Blair held back, knowing that Sandburg at least would have something to say about that. True, sometimes Simon considered that the kid’s heart was too big for his own good, making him uncomfortable on several occasions when expected to comply with the letter of the law but, in all honesty, this time he was willing to give the empath’s instinctive character referencing of the younger DuRoy some credence.

Simon looked appraisingly at the young man, who remained standing partway down the steps, eyes slightly unfocussed as he gazed in the direction of the airport buildings, and Simon was certain he was monitoring Jim and Blair’s departure. With a slight shake of his head, Leon came back to himself and met Simon’s gaze, his habitual arrogance mitigated by a small, self-deprecating smile.

“Captain Banks, I presume? As I expect you already realise, I am Leon DuRoy Jnr. I do hope you’re not considering detaining me for questioning?”

“The thought had crossed my mind,” Simon responded with a small, wry grin, glancing up to where two very large and very professional-looking minders watched intently from the top of the staircase.    

Leon’s grin widened a little, then his face fell, and his expression sobered significantly as a flash of real pain darkened his eyes for a moment.

“I assure you, Captain, that I had no part in Blair’s kidnapping, and I should be more than happy to submit to a sentinel and guide ‘lie-detector’ test to prove it. However, I hope that won’t be necessary at this time, because I have pressing business back at the compound which I can’t put off. Then again, I have a good half hour while the Lear is prepped for the return journey, and I should be glad to tell you as much as I can if that would be satisfactory?”

And Simon found himself agreeing, impressed by the young man’s sincerity.

“That sounds fair enough, Mr DuRoy. Shall we take it into the lounge? I’m sure we can get some privacy there.”

\-------------------------------------

Sitting comfortably in the executive lounge area, the two minders watching unobtrusively from the doorway, Leon faced Simon and began.

“First off, Captain Banks, I want to reiterate that I had no prior knowledge of Blair’s kidnapping, although my mother has since told me that it was actually my father’s second attempt. I know he was only thinking of me when he did it. I’m afraid he believed, as always, that enough money and intimidation could buy him exactly what he wanted. And I freely admit that, if Blair had been free, I would have bonded with him, and kept him for myself. He’s a beautiful person and gifted guide, and I know I could have grown to love him. He might even have grown fond of me, given time.

“But I knew as soon as I saw him that he was already claimed and fully bonded to Sentinel Ellison, and there could be no question of breaking it. Father simply couldn’t – or wouldn’t – understand that a bond between us was impossible. I knew I had to get Blair back to his sentinel before they were irreparably damaged.

“In all honesty, I’m not altruistic enough to claim that I was particularly concerned for Ellison, but no true sentinel can allow a guide to suffer so I knew what I had to do.

“And here we come to the difficult part,” he continued, expression now dark and plainly disturbed.

“Father refused to listen to me, and we argued fiercely. And during that argument, he fell downstairs – without any help from me, I might add. He might have been a hard and ruthless man, but he is still my father, and I would never intentionally hurt him.

“Anyhow, his neck is broken, and he also has a serious head injury. Mother has had him transferred to a private clinic in Rio, and when I spoke to her just before take-off, she said that if he recovers consciousness, he will probably be quadriplegic, perhaps even brain-damaged. So you see, I have to get back. I have to see how he is, and take care of my mother.

“And I have to take over business as head of the family,” and here he paused, clearly waiting for Simon’s reactions to his words.

Simon looked back at the young man, his gaze speculative as he replied, “Well, Mr DuRoy, I find your actions and attitude highly commendable, towards Guide Sandburg, at least. But as to your other bombshell, does that mean that I am now looking at Leon DuRoy’s son and heir in every sense of the word? Because I wouldn’t want to have to face you across the table in an interview room somewhere down the line.”

Leon glanced down at the floor for a moment, plainly trying to contain the automatic resentment engendered by the big captain’s words. With a deep sigh, he looked up again, and met Simon’s gaze steadily, resignation and sincerity plain to see on his handsome features.

“I guess I ought to be offended at your implication, Captain, but I can’t say I blame you.   It’s true that I’ve always been aware that my father’s business hasn’t all been above board, but as long as I got what I wanted, I was never interested in where the money came from.

“I should tell you that my parents were never close. Mother was the orphaned heiress to one of my grandfather’s long-time cronies, and was basically married off to my father as a business arrangement, pure and simple. She had no say in the matter, and as long as it meant that Father had access to her millions, he couldn’t care less about her, except as the mother of his son and heir. And I haven’t exactly been a loving son to her either.

“But thanks mostly to Blair’s influence, I intend to try and make amends. When I get back to Argentina, I’m going to sever all ties with Father’s criminal contacts, and concentrate solely on his legitimate ventures. I have enough money without trying to follow in his footsteps, and I want to come back to Cascade. I’m selling the compound, and when - if- he’s ready to travel, I’ll bring my father back to stay in a private care facility for as long as he needs.

“Having said that, I’m afraid I won’t be of any help to investigating authorities. I have no intention of painting a large target on either mine or my mother’s backs, so I won’t be pointing the finger at anyone. You and I both know how traitors are dealt with in the criminal underworld, especially in South America, so ceasing all future illegal transactions is as far as I intend to go.

“And once I’ve settled my affairs as best I can, I intend to return to college. I want to study at Rainier – maybe do an MBA – as I barely managed to complete my bachelors at Harvard thanks to my senses coming online. I’d like to learn how to take an active role in my family’s legitimate business ventures as soon as I can. And Blair has promised to try and find a guide for me. My own guide. And I trust him to do that for me.” Leon broke off there, a brief but soft smile reaching his eyes.

Simon was a good cop, and had a good cop’s instincts, and in this instance he found himself in agreement with Blair. The young man before him might well have been exactly what Simon despised in the moneyed classes; spoiled, wealthy and arrogant; but deep within, he was basically a good kid, who just needed someone like Sandburg to believe in him enough for his good qualities to come to the fore. And Simon well knew that that had a lot to do with sentinel and guide voodoo, so he wasn’t going to question it. Reaching a decision, he nodded briskly before speaking.

“Thank you for your candour, Mr DuRoy.   Although I feel I should be pressing you to change your mind about passing on what you know about your father’s criminal contacts, I understand your reticence on the subject. Off the record, I can also appreciate your need to get back to Argentina to take care of business, and have no intention of trying to delay you further.

“But now Blair is back where he belongs, what about you? Can you continue to manage without a guide for as long as it takes until you find your own?”

Gratified by the older man’s obviously genuine concern, Leon grinned in response.

“I’ll be fine, Captain, but thank you for asking. I’ll have to resort to medication again, but Blair taught me more about controlling my senses in the few days he was with me than anyone or anything else since I came on line more than two years ago. I can certainly function well enough to do what I have to do, and hopefully, once I return to Cascade and Rainier, Blair and the Guide Training Programme can help me find my true guide.

“And now, Captain, I can see that my aircraft is ready for takeoff, so, if you don’t mind, I’ll say goodbye for now, although I’m sure we will meet again. And _not_ in an interview room! Please give my regards to Sentinel Ellison when you see him, and tell Blair to take care of himself,” and getting to his feet, he held out his hand to Simon.

Clasping the offered hand in a firm grip, Simon replied, “It’s been a pleasure talking to you, Mr DuRoy. And I look forward to seeing you again when you return to Cascade. Safe journey,” and turning, he strode out of the lounge and returned to his car for the drive back to the PD. He had been given plenty to think about and things to do as a consequence.

\-------------------------------------------

**Some while later, Jim and Blair’s bedroom:**

Long hours later, a much more relaxed and contented sentinel finally roused, his full bladder warning him that he needed to make urgent use of the bathroom. Glancing over at the clock on the nightstand, he was slightly surprised to see that he and Blair had slept undisturbed for at least twelve hours straight. He grinned ruefully, thinking to himself that it was no wonder his bladder was complaining so much. Carefully wriggling out from beneath his still deeply-sleeping guide, he eased himself off the bed and took care of business, sighing in relief as he flushed the commode and washed up.   Returning to the bedside, he paused for a moment, taking the opportunity to scan his young lover thoroughly, needing to reassure himself that his guide was on the mend, and not suffering from any permanent after-effects from their enforced separation.

While Jim was making use of the facilities, Blair had turned over on his back, an arm thrown wide as if seeking his missing partner, and nose twitching delightfully as a few strands of his long curls tickled his face. Jim smiled softly at the sight, but frowned slightly as he really studied his lover’s body.

True, Blair looked 100% better than he had when he had first disembarked from the Lear Jet, but the remnants of stress and deep exhaustion still lingered on his attractive face, and he was even thinner than usual. Having said that, when the sleepy blue eyes flickered open to see Jim standing beside him, Blair’s smile was one of pure love and contentment, and that did more than anything to set Jim’s mind at rest.

Sitting down beside Blair on the bed, he reached over and stroked the beloved face with a gentle hand. “Hey, baby. How’re you feeling? Bet you need the bathroom too, huh?” and he snickered softly at Blair’s answering blush.

“Aw, man, you just had to mention bathrooms!” the younger man snarked unconvincingly, but he was grinning as he sat up. “Back in a few, lover. Are you going to keep the bed warm for me?” And Jim just grinned as he settled himself back in the warm spot Blair had just vacated, making shooing motions with one hand.

“OK, OK! I’m going!” and Blair trotted off to the bathroom to see to the needs of his own bladder.

When he returned, having taken care of business and taken a moment to clean his teeth and freshen up, he bounced up onto the bed and knelt astride Jim’s lap, throwing his arms around the bigger man’s neck and leaning his forehead against Jim’s. He sighed happily as his sentinel’s strong arms came up to cuddle him close, and almost purred in languorous pleasure as the large hands began to rub soothing circles over the soft skin of his naked back.

“Mmmmm! I’ll give you ten years to stop doing that!” he murmured, pulling back slightly to look into Jim’s eyes, not surprised to see the heat and lust growing therein. When one hand came up to cup the back of his head and draw him in for a kiss, he went willingly, opening to Jim’s demanding tongue and happy to allow the sentinel to re-learn all the details and flavours of his mouth.

For long minutes, Jim indulged himself in tasting his guide, the minty flavour of toothpaste combining with Blair’s unique sweetness while he lazily explored teeth, tongue and gums, not leaving any part of the moist cavern untouched. Finally, they drew apart with a soft, slightly wet sound, and leaned their foreheads together again as they relaxed into their embrace.

“I want you, baby, but we need to talk.” Jim pushed Blair back gently so he could meet the younger man’s suddenly shy gaze. “You know what I’m going to say, don’t you? About your foolishness in using that shortcut and setting yourself up for trouble.”

Eyes flicking sideways for a moment, Blair sighed. He had been expecting as much, as he knew very well that he had had more than a hand in his own downfall, and he couldn’t forgive himself for the trouble and stress he had put Jim through.

“I’m sorry, Jim. I realise it was stupid, but it made the journey time between the U and the PD so much shorter. And I never expected ever to stop in that area, after all. I knew that would be asking for trouble. But I never expected to be followed, either. I still can’t understand why the cops pulled me over, unless it really was a set-up from the get-go. Gods, they were so full of hate. I could feel their disgust, and when Detective Kowalski arrived, he terrified me. And when he grabbed me, there was nothing I could do, Jim, I swear!”

“Hush, baby, it’s OK. I do understand, and I forgive you, but you must promise me that you’ll never do anything that foolish again. We’ve both had a taste of the anguish caused by separation, and I for one don’t ever want to go through it again. You’re everything to me, baby, and not just because you’re my bonded guide.”

“And you’re everything to me, Jim. I can’t live without you, and I never want to try. I’m truly sorry,” and he bent his head as a few tears of remorse leaked out from behind his closed lids.

Cuddling the trembling guide close, crooning softly to him and rocking him for a few minutes until the small but intense breakdown was over, Jim finally pushed him away again, and tapped him on his nose with an admonishing finger.

“So, little one, what punishment do you think you deserve?” he growled with a comically exaggerated scowl, hoping to lighten the mood again. “I’m thinking, maybe...a spanking?” and he was enormously gratified when Blair responded as he had hoped, with a look of total astonishment followed by no little mirth.

“A _spanking?_ What, now?” and he tilted his head to one side as he studied Jim’s face, the twitches from trying to control his laughter only too obvious as the sentinel tried desperately to maintain his forbidding air.

Suddenly a spark of pure devilment lit up Blair’s huge blue eyes as he slanted his lover a sultry glance.

“OK, sounds like fun!” he chirped, and then fell over laughing at the effect of his words on his beloved sentinel. The big cop looked totally flummoxed for a second before joining in with the unrestrained merriment.

“Why, you cheeky young pup!” he gasped, pulling Blair back onto his lap and lightly smacking the delectable ass filling his hands. “Who would’ve believed you had a kink like that? Seems like you’ve got hidden depths I’ve never seen even when we’re bonding!”

A moment later, they both sobered abruptly, the seriousness of the situation returning once again.

“All joking aside, baby, I know you’re sorry, and so am I for not getting to you sooner. But what I want now is to bond. To make love to you again and take our time over it so we can savour every moment.”

And Blair was completely down with that.

\--------------------------------------

Later still that evening, Jim and Blair sat in the library, cuddled together on their favourite sofa, and idly watching a Jags replay on the large TV which Jim had recently bought to replace Eli’s old one. After their second leisurely – and highly satisfactory - bonding and lovemaking session, they had napped briefly again before growling stomachs reminded them that they hadn’t eaten for almost twenty-four hours. Showering quickly and throwing on their most comfortable casual clothes, they had worked together companionably to create a quick but tasty stir-fry, and were now relaxing and enjoying the feeling of being replete, cosy and thoroughly in tune with one another.

They both knew that this was only a brief respite, and they would soon have to face the real world again. Jim needed to get back to the PD, and Blair needed to give his statement, but there was something else Blair wanted to discuss with his sentinel, and the thought of it disturbed his inner tranquillity, worried that Jim might not appreciate what he had to say. However, he trusted Jim not to hurt him, at least, not intentionally, and trusted in the big man’s integrity and innate fairness and sense of justice, so he mentally girded his loins, and began.

Twisting around in his seat so he could face Jim, he chewed his lip in an unconscious nervous gesture for a moment before speaking. “Um, Jim...there’s something I need to talk to you about...” and met Jim’s quizzical gaze with his most appealing ‘puppy dog’ eyes, although Jim knew he was completely unaware of the effect it invariably had on its recipient.

“Hey, babe, it’s OK. I guessed as much,” he replied with a rueful grin, tapping Blair’s forehead gently with his knuckle. “I knew there was something going on in that noggin of yours, so no need to get yourself wound up.”

“I’m sorry, Jim,” Blair murmured, a little shame-facedly. “I know that you can feel me through the link, and I should be used to it by now. Well, I am, really. It’s just that you might not like what I have to say?” and he tailed off, unaware that he was automatically turning up the wattage on the puppy dog look. Jim sighed, but his expression betrayed nothing but fondness and mild exasperation.

“S’OK, Blair. Just spit it out. I have a feeling you want to talk about Leon. Am I right?”

And Blair nodded; part of him relieved that Jim had guessed already, but still nervous at how he would respond to Blair’s thoughts and suggestions. Settling back to lean his shoulder against the sofa cushions, he reached over and took one of Jim’s hands in both his own, wanting the security of their touch before unburdening himself. Receiving a gentle squeeze and encouraging look in response, he took a deep breath and said, “I know you don’t want to hear this, Jim, but I want to help Leon. I know you don’t like the idea of me working with unbonded sentinels, especially one who you perceive as a threat to our bond, but he deserves help, Jim. He was good to me, when he could have hurt me badly – hurt us both – but he didn’t. He chose to help me, and even defied his father to do it. I feel I owe him, Jim,” and he paused to ‘read’ and gauge Jim’s reactions before continuing.

Jim’s expression had become tight and angry, but he controlled himself firmly. It was in Blair’s nature to want to help all and sundry, and he couldn’t fault him for that. Having said that, the idea of him being in contact with the young sentinel pushed all his Alpha buttons, and his spirit jaguar wanted to howl in denial.

But one look at Blair’s anxious face was enough to make his inner sentinel back down, and he simply said, “You’re right in that I don’t want to hear it, but I understand where you’re coming from, Chief. I know that it’s pure guide instinct to want to help any sentinel in trouble, whether he’s your own or not. It’s just that, well, shit, Blair! Whether he wanted it or not, he was the reason behind DuRoy’s obsession with you, and it could so easily have been the end for us!”

“I know, Jim, and I swear I’m not making light of it,” Blair responded hurriedly, a brief shiver of remembered horror wracking his frame. “But since DuRoy did go ahead and grab me anyway, I’m deeply grateful that his son turned out to be an honourable guy after all. If he’d wanted to, he could have tried to force a bond with me, which would have been disastrous, I know, but he didn’t. He offered me his shielding immediately without being asked, and kept me safe even when his father was getting mad. There was so much negative energy in that house, Jim. It was killing me even with Leon’s shielding and their doctor giving me doses of heavy-duty suppressants. And he knew that, and would have gotten me out even sooner if he could have done.

“And I had no problem with helping him while I was there, Jim. He was being so good to me; it was the least I could do to give him a bit of grounding and some practical advice on how to control his senses. He might have had all the material possessions and the best medical support money could buy, but no one thought about basic training and sense management. Guess his father took it for granted that a bonded guide would take care of everything once he’d acquired one. There was no real familial affection or understanding in that relationship, believe me!” And Jim reluctantly nodded his agreement. After all, he had plenty of first-hand experience with a failed father-son relationship himself, so found himself in sympathy despite his simmering irritation.

The empath in Blair knew exactly what Jim would be feeling, so he offered his lover a brief but warm smile of understanding before continuing.

“Anyway, as soon as he got the chance after his father’s accident, he contacted Simon. He wants out of the crime scene, Jim, and wants to return to live in Cascade. He’d really like to go to Rainier to study for an MBA or something, and, well, I sort of said that I’d help him look for his own guide through the Guide Training Programme...” and he looked up shyly to meet Jim’s gaze again, believing that he’d already overstepped the mark without consulting with Jim first.

And really there was nothing Jim could do but accept his lover’s words whether he liked it or not. If the inner sentinel wanted to drag Blair back upstairs to his lair and never let him out again, the honourable man in him admired Blair’s forgiving and helpful nature. And as an Alpha, it was his duty both to support and protect his guide, and help new sentinels to cope with their condition.

Jim maintained his silence for long moments while he marshalled his thoughts, but knowing that the prolonged hiatus would be cranking up Blair’s anxiety, he sighed deeply and began to speak, holding Blair’s troubled gaze as he tried to put his guide’s mind at rest.

“OK, baby. I still don’t like it, but I’ll give you my blessing, as long as you promise me you’ll never try to work with him without me there, or at least, never one-to-one. As for the guide-finding thing, I know you’ll do your best to find him a match, but I don’t want you obsessing about it if it doesn’t happen immediately – or happen at all. I know all too well that compatible guides are hard to find, even though they seem to be coming forward more now. Which, by the way, I believe has a lot to do with your influence, little one.

“But let’s not jump the gun and get wound up unnecessarily. After all, it may not happen. Leon may not be able to return to Cascade for years, if at all, depending on how successful he is in dealing with the fall-out from his father’s disability. But if he does, and he’s still of the same mind, then we’ll help him, Chief. I promise.”

Blair’s face lit up with a bright smile of relief and adoration as Jim’s words sank in, and he threw himself into his sentinel’s willing embrace as he buried his face in Jim’s neck, snuggling into his favourite position as he kissed the soft skin beneath his lips before murmuring sentinel-soft, “Thank you, Jim. I love you, man, so much. I can’t begin to tell you...”

“Oh, you do OK, baby. And I love you too,” and they clung together, exulting in their joy and love for one another and exchanging their emotions without let or hindrance on either part as the link hummed between them and sentinel and guide were as one.

\-----------------------------------

**Part 6: Epilogue:**

**Six months later, MCU bullpen:**

Jim put the finishing touches to his report, having successfully closed his most recent case. He still hated computers, and despite his guide’s encouragement, his typing was no better, but at least he often had the benefit of his own secretarial support when Blair joined him at the PD; which truth be told was for a good portion of most work days. Grinning ruefully, he told himself to quit with the self-pity, knowing that his guide was on his way, just in time to tackle the rest of the outstanding paperwork. He hit ‘print’, and looked up as Joel clapped him on the shoulder in passing, his smile warm as he met his friend’s amiable gaze.

“Hey, Jim. You’re looking smug. Is that because you’ve finished your report, or because you can hear Blair coming? Or both?” and he chuckled good-naturedly at Jim’s faint blush.

“Caught in the act, Joel!” he replied cheerfully. “I’m actually quite proud of having done my own paperwork for once, but that doesn’t mean to say I don’t prefer it when I’ve got my little helper here to do it for me. And yes, he is on his way, and by the sound of it, Megan’s arrived with him, so we both get our partners back.”

“Not a moment too soon. She’s going to love our next task. Chasing down leads amongst the homeless in the dockside warehouse district. Such a pleasure!” and Joel’s grin twisted momentarily into a comically wry grimace before returning to his usual genial expression.

“Anyhow, there’s a good chance that something’ll shake loose about the drive-by shooting, so the sooner we get down there the better. Are you going out later with Blair?”

“Nothing planned as yet, Joel, but I’m waiting for a call from Sneaks. He’s been listening out for me regarding those rumours of a new player in town, trying to muscle in where DuRoy’s influence has waned. If we can nip it in the bud before he gets established, just maybe we’ll be able to succeed in doing a bit of real ‘preventative policing’ for a change! One can but hope!” he added sardonically, enjoying the camaraderie.

Patting Jim on the shoulder again, Joel glanced towards Simon’s office. “Well, take care, Jim, and good luck with your snitch. I’ll see you again once I’ve checked in with Simon. Later!” and he wove his way purposefully between the desks to Simon’s office, leaving a smiling Jim watching his departing back.

Standing up to retrieve his printed report, Jim cocked his head, listening to the happy sounds of his guide chattering to Megan as they rode up in the elevator from the parking garage. He used his senses with ease now, having accepted them as the gift they were, and an integral part of himself. Not that he was conceited about them in any way. Although they gave him a definite edge, it was simply a facet of who he was, to be maintained like his body in as good a shape as possible in order to allow him to do his job of protecting the tribe to the best of his ability.

And he was well aware that this comfortable acceptance had its foundation in the devotion and support he received from his guide and partner.

Perhaps the most amazing thing was the dramatic improvement in both his and his guide’s individual gifts over the last six months.   Despite the trauma of their enforced separation, or perhaps as a result of it, once reunited, their bond became noticeably stronger as their abilities grew progressively more enhanced. Although permanent separation would be unthinkable, they found that they were strong enough now to be able to spend a significant part of the day away from each other in reasonable comfort, which allowed them to have a little time to themselves to pursue their individual interests and duties. This state of affairs, far from damaging their partnership, actually worked to the benefit of them both insofar as they could achieve so much more, each knowing that they had the other’s full backing and understanding. And working together, they were formidable.

Still tracking his lover’s progress, Jim returned to his seat, a tiny frown creasing his brow as he heard Blair’s unforced laughter in response to one of Megan’s pithy comments. He ruefully admitted to himself that he was still prone to be irritated by the Aussie detective’s forthright manner, and her complete disregard for his occasional possessive posturing when he thought she was being overly familiar with his guide. On the other hand, he was glad she was so fond of Blair, like most of the people who mattered to them. In Major Crimes, Blair was easily accepted and jealously protected, as indeed were both sentinel and guide; their colleagues being justifiably proud of the pair’s ever-improving success rate which benefitted the whole unit.

Nevertheless, it had to be said that Blair – and Jim – weren’t universally popular in the PD, especially with those few who covertly sympathised with the likes of Kowalski, Kelly and Johansson. Jim’s frown deepened as he spent a moment contemplating the fates of those three men.

Despite their insistent protestations of innocence, once Blair had been returned to Jim, there was no question of them not being found guilty as charged. Also, as a result of DuRoy’s injury, there was no help to be had from his tame legal and criminal contacts, Leon Jnr. having pulled the plug on all those contracts, both written and inferred. As a result, Mitch Kowalski was now serving his sentence in Starkville Prison for assault and kidnapping, and Jim was grimly gratified to hear that he wasn’t having a good time there. There were many inmates there with grudges against the crooked ex-Vice cop, and after a particularly vicious attack by a vengeful fellow prisoner, Kowalski had been moved to solitary for his own protection. And Jim knew for a fact that at least a couple of the guards in charge of him were sympathetic towards Sandburg, so even if they were too professional to shirk their duties towards their prisoner, they certainly didn’t go out of their way to improve his lot. The man was never going to enjoy any privileges on their watch.

Of course, Blair, being the gentle soul he was, expressed his sympathy for the man’s plight, even though Jim insisted that Mitch didn’t deserve his guide’s concern. But that was Blair for you. He was always going to look for the best in everyone, even his attackers. Which is why Sean Kelly and Bill Johansson had managed to avoid doing time alongside of Kowalski. Although summarily dismissed without references or pension rights, they had escaped further punishment because Blair had refused to press charges against them. It might aggravate Jim intensely, but his young guide had explained that he would feel guilty – undeservedly so in Jim’s and his friends’ opinions – for unwittingly putting another member of Kelly’s family behind bars, since Kelly’s relationship to Joseph Murphy had come to light when he and Johansson were arrested. Blair hated the idea that he could be the cause for both brothers-in-law being incarcerated, but it was pretty certain as far as Jim was concerned that his guide’s kindness and consideration wouldn’t be appreciated.

Pushing the unhappy thoughts to the back of his mind, Jim turned to smile wryly at Blair as he and Megan entered the bullpen together, Megan’s arm wrapped affectionately around the smaller man’s waist as she grinned down at him.

“Hey, Jim!” Blair’s already happy smile brightened even more as he beamed at his sentinel, almost bouncing with energy, and plainly bursting with whatever exciting news he needed to impart to his partner. Smiling gratefully up at Megan, he slipped out of her hold, and launched himself into Jim’s open arms with even more enthusiasm than usual, not that anyone in the vicinity gave it a second thought. Sentinels and guides behaved as sentinels and guides would, and such displays of affection and reconnection were to be expected.

Nudging Jim none-too-gently in the side as she walked past, Megan grinned cheekily as she greeted her colleague, whose nose was presently buried in the curls behind Blair’s ear. “Hi Jimbo! Good to see you hard at work, mate. How’s it going? Managing to cope without Sandy’s help?”

Raising his head just enough to glare at his irrepressible colleague, he growled, “Don’t get too comfortable, Connor! Joel’s going to be dragging you out again very soon. And look, there he is!” and he glanced towards where the man in question was just exiting Simon’s office.

“Well bugger!” Megan replied, although she didn’t look all that put out. “You can stop with the smirking, Ellison! It doesn’t become you, mate! Makes you look like Shere Khan,” and she turned her attention to her partner, already eager to hear what job he had lined up for the two of them.

As Jim looked back down at his guide, he couldn’t help but snicker at Blair’s almost sub-vocal whisper, “wrong cat, man!”

Pulling away to wrap an arm around Blair’s shoulders, Jim replied, “I can see you’re dying to tell me something important, Chief, so how about we go and see if the breakroom coffee’s drinkable for once? I could do with some time out after all that typing...” and he donned an aggrieved and pitiful expression that had his guide sniggering openly.

“Sure, Jim. Sounds good to me,” and Blair willingly allowed himself to be propelled towards the door by his eager partner. However, just as they reached it, it opened to admit H and Rafe, newly returned from a day spent testifying in court. Since H had to look smart for the occasion, he was dressed for once in a suit and tie rather than his preferred outlandish Hawaiian shirts, and Jim whistled in admiration.

“Hey, H, don’t you scrub up well? Didn’t think you even owned a suit!”

H preened for a moment, then said, “Hey, Blair! How’s my ‘mane’ man? Get it? M.A.N.E. / main...? Good, huh?” and he reached out to ruffle Blair’s curls as he laughed uproariously at his own well-used joke. Rafe rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, and they all joined in with the merriment; not because of the quality or originality of the wit, for sure, but simply because H’s laughter was so unforced and infectious.

“See you in a few, guys,” Jim said a few minutes later, still chuckling as he pushed Blair ahead of him out of the door.

“Later, man!” replied H, and he and his partner headed to their own desks, stopping en route to share H’s dubious witticism with Megan and Joel, who were just preparing to leave on their next assignment.

\-------------------------------

Jim was pleased to see that the breakroom was presently unoccupied, so he indicated that Blair take a seat while he checked out the coffee machine. Not at all impressed by the half-inch of lukewarm sludge sitting in the bottom of the pot, he set about making a fresh batch, glancing over at his lover while he bustled about.

In truth, Blair looked good enough to eat. He was bouncing slightly in his seat, his face radiant as he watched his partner intently, waiting with barely-contained impatience for Jim to join him. He had come a long way from the frightened boy Jim had first met and bonded with, and Jim was struck once again with the overwhelming love and pride he had in his chosen guide. One would have thought that Blair’s traumatic kidnapping would have set him back months in his development as he grew into his new role, but if anything, the opposite had happened. Not only did the separation strengthen his empathic gifts, but it had given his self-confidence a surprising and completely unexpected boost. As long as he remained secure in the knowledge that Jim was always going to be there for him, he had discovered depths of inner strength and fortitude of which he had never suspected he was capable, and the discovery had been liberating.

Blair was well into his second year of study at Rainier, and was going from strength to strength as far as his academic work was concerned. He was also now tutoring three other students who were attending the Guide Training Programme, much to the satisfaction of his department head, Dean Wilson. And his contribution to the whole Sentinel and Guide Studies faculty was invaluable, especially when Jim could accompany him for practical demonstrations.

All in all, he was happy, busy and contented, and above all, never too preoccupied to support his adored sentinel, which to his way of thinking was the most important job of all.

And a contented but often bemused Jim frequently wondered where the kid got all his energy from, only to come to the conclusion that it was from the same source as his own – from the healing power of their shared bond, which continued to grow in strength and shone ever more brightly between them as time passed.

Finally finished with preparing their drinks, Jim set two cups of fresh coffee down on the table and sat beside Blair, automatically taking his partner’s hand in his own as he gave the younger man his undivided attention.

“OK, baby. Tell me all!”

Taking a deep breath, Blair’s grin widened even further as he began, his voice excited and also compelling as he spoke.

“Well, there’s two things really, Jim, and man, it’s just so cool! Sam’s submitted and defended his Master’s thesis, and it’s been passed! Not that there was any question it would be. I mean, it was so well-written, and it’ll be of great use to up-and-coming guides for sure. He’s all set to start his doctoral programme now, and wants to carry on in Guide Studies. And he wants to continue to use me as a study subject...”

This last was spoken with much more diffidence, as, despite his new-found confidence, he still couldn’t comprehend why his friend should consider him special and important enough to be his primary study subject.

Jim knew there was no point in trying to convince him otherwise, as no matter what anyone said, Blair just couldn’t seem to understand his true value. At heart, he was simply too sweet-natured and unassuming, and always would be. So instead he squeezed his lover’s hand, saying warmly, “That’s great, Chief! I knew Sam could do it, from the first time we met him. And Eli would be proud, since Sam’s a worthy first recipient of his scholarship fund. Couldn’t be a better choice!

“Anyway, what about your other news? I don’t suppose it’s about Leon by any chance?”

Instantly diverted, Blair’s excitement grew again. “Yeah, Jim, it is. And just wait ‘til you hear it! You’re going to be amazed, I promise you!”

“OK, OK, babe, I’m all ears! Do tell!” Jim responded, chuckling in gentle mockery as he grinned fondly at his animated partner. He did have to quash a tiny pang of jealousy though, stomping it down swiftly before his sensitive guide could pick up on it. Despite how the younger DuRoy had protected his guide, Jim still felt uneasy every time Blair had any contact with the unbonded sentinel.

Because Leon had accomplished what he had set out to do in double-quick time. He had managed to extract himself from his father’s criminal activities, convincing the man’s ex-partners-in-crime that his withdrawal was final, but that there was no chance that he would inform on them in any way for his own and his family’s self-protection. In a matter of weeks he had disposed of the compound in Argentina, which was acquired with gratifying alacrity and profound satisfaction by one of his father’s erstwhile local contacts, and he and his mother had returned to take up residence in their Cascade property. He had also arranged for his father to be transported to a state-of-the-art care centre near Cascade. Although conscious, the man was barely aware of his surroundings, and totally paralysed from the neck down, so was unlikely to ever be well enough to stand trial, which was a great pity, in Jim’s admittedly cynical view.

Furthermore, the young man had arranged to take an MBA course at Rainier, and was doing well at his studies.

_‘Amazing what innate arrogance, determination and conspicuous wealth can achieve’_ thought Jim somewhat derisively before turning his full and rapt attention back to his partner, whose eyes sparkled in sheer uncomplicated happiness as he shared his news.

“Well, you know that mixer session we couldn’t attend a couple of nights ago, because we were doing the Lawson Street stakeout? Thing is, I contacted Leon and told him about it, and also all the unbonded guides I could think of, not just students and trainees. And guess what? Leon called me this morning, really excited. He’s found a compatible guide, man, and you’ll never guess who it is! It’s Ellen Bowen, Jim, from the PD! She called me as well, and she’s really thrilled! Seems they were attracted instantly, and have bonded fully already,” this said with a slight blush and delightfully shy grin. “They both sounded truly happy, Jim. And then they dropped by the U this morning just before I left to come here, to thank me in person for introducing them. And I could tell, Jim. I ‘read’ their love and joy in each other. I believe they’ll make a great pairing.”

He sat back then, carefully studying his sentinel’s face, his own open and clearly joyful expression inviting Jim to share in his unaffected pleasure. And how could Jim deny an invitation like that? For sure, he was genuinely pleased when any unbonded sentinel and guide found their true match, but he was also honest enough to admit to a feeling of intense relief on his own behalf. Leon wouldn’t be sniffing around Blair any more now, and Jim could rest assured that his guide was now completely immune from the other sentinel’s unwanted attention.

His answering grin was real enough when he made his reply. “That’s great news, Chief. Really. And I’m glad for them both. And so proud of you for engineering their meeting, babe. They owe you, for sure! Now, we should be getting back. I’ve a feeling Simon’s got a new case for us.” Leaning forward to kiss his guide’s smiling mouth, he pulled the smaller man in for a brief but loving hug before shepherding him out of the breakroom and heading back to the office, sharing a smile and revelling in each other’s company.

\-----------------------------------

Simon Banks peered around his office door, his habitual fearsome scowl creasing his brow, and an unlit cigar clamped between his teeth. He was looking for any sign of Ellison and Sandburg, and his ferocious expression lifted a little as he grinned at the sight of the two men entering the bullpen. As usual, they were completely wrapped up in one another, Jim’s expression one of pure devotion and simple enjoyment as he listened intently to something his animated guide was telling him, Blair’s hands gesturing wildly as he illustrated and emphasised his words.

Simon contemplated the pair for a moment, struck anew by the change in both of them since they had found each other and bonded. The original odd couple certainly, apparently mismatched and doomed to fail from the outset, but they had surprised their critics, amongst whose number Simon was ashamed to admit he had been one of the worst.

Under his guide’s influence, Ellison had changed from the taciturn and self-contained loner who had first transferred to MCU to a well-respected member of the team. More disposed to be sociable, especially when his partner was around, he had a dry sense of humour and a surprisingly gentle side to him which Blair never failed to elicit and nurture.

As for Blair, Simon never ceased to be amazed at how the kid had changed – and how he had managed to pretty much reverse Simon’s original opinion of him. Still gentle and self-effacing, yet the kid had emerged from his kidnapping stronger than ever, and the depths of love and trust he and Jim had in one another was awe-inspiring. Blair aroused the protective instinct in virtually everyone in Major Crimes, and was loved and cherished now by enough people in the PD as a whole to ensure his well-being at almost any time or in any location. And he had earned Simon’s respect and affection almost in spite of his captain’s negativity.

Yes, they had given him some grey hairs over the months they’d been together, and would undoubtedly give him plenty more over the years, but he didn’t mind. They were worth it, no doubt about it.

Reining in his thoughts, he bellowed, “Ellison! Sandburg! My office!” gratified when they instantly turned to face him, Blair startling a little as he stopped mid-sentence, and both wearing identical quizzical expressions.

Simon chuckled contentedly as he withdrew his head. _‘Still got it! Heh!’_ he thought as he listened to their good-natured bickering as they made their way to his office, secure in the knowledge that they considered him a friend as much as their boss. Didn’t hurt to keep them on their toes, though.

“What did you do this time, Chief?”

“Me? Nothing, Jim! You’ve been here all morning – must be something you’ve done...”

“Nah, not me, babe. It’s got to be you...”

“Isn’t!”

“Is too!”

“Not!”

Simon shook his head in affectionate amusement.

_‘Ye Gods! What a pair! Who needs TV when you can have in-house entertainment like this? Man. I love my job....’_

**The End**


End file.
